These are the Moments
by TrimbyJean
Summary: All my various AU one-shots, since they all take place in the same AU/timeline. Starting with when Puck met Rachel. M for Puck's mouth and mind, as well as later chapters.
1. The Bet

_Okay, a quick explanation about this one, and it'll apply to just about any other AUs I write, because I'm like that._

_Pretty much Any AU I write- with the exception of things like prompts, requests, or specific presents for people- will be in the same universe, and sort of follow the same timeline. They don't need to be read in any particular order, but I'm just constant like that, so it happens._

_My AU is also sort of a future fic world, since everyone is around college age or a little older. Rachel, Kurt and Santana all live together in an apartment, and Kurt and Rachel attend NYADA. San is at NYU. Puck, Finn, and Mike share an apartment, and Puck is a fireman, Finn works in a garage and is a volunteer at Puck's firehouse, and Mike is at Julliard for dance. There'll be mention of other pairings, but it's focused mostly on Puckleberry (because who cares about anyone else when the cuteness of Puckleberry is present?)_

**Summary**: "I bet you can't get that tiny brunette over there with the mile-long legs to give you a kiss."

**Rating**: Let's call this one M to be safe

**Disclaimer**: I just paid my electric bill, so I doubt I can own anything for a while…

Puck hit the 5 ball into the pocket and leaned against his pool cue, smirking over at Mike. The Asian rolled his eyes and took a sip from his beer before speaking.

"I swear, you have to cheat, dude. There's no way anyone is this good at pool."

Puck chuckled and slapped Mike on the back. "Don't take it hard, bro. I've been playing a while. Right, Finn?" The two looked over at the taller boy, who was leaning against his cue, staring dreamily at some chick at the bar. "Finn? Frankenteen!" The giant snapped out of it and looked over sheepishly at his friends.

"Uh, yeah…. What were we talking about?"

"You slowly turning into a walking pussy." Puck said, standing next to him and letting his eyes find Finn's object of drool. "The Latina at the bar? With the huge boobs and pouty lips?" He looked at her closer, dressed in a tight, short red piece of clothing that could barely be called a dress. She sat next to a skinny boy dressed nicely, and from the way they were talking, the dude had to be gay. The chick had her boobs half hanging out and he wasn't even glancing. "She looks easy. Go for it."

"Actually, I was looking at her friend."

"Shit, Finessa, you goin' homo on me?" He laughed as Finn socked him in the arm, barely feeling it. Boy needed to build up some muscle.

"Her other friend, jackass. The brunette." Puck glanced back and finally noticed what Finn was talking about. Sitting across from the Latina was a tiny pixie of a girl, with long brunette hair and legs that just wouldn't stop. Puck's mouth went a bit dry, and he saved grace by swilling some beer. How in the hell did a girl that small get legs like that? They were encased in tight, dark jeans, and as one of her legs swung, he caught a glimpse of tall red heels. He couldn't see her front, but he liked her back already.

"You don't have a chance with that one." Mike said, joining them. "She's too good for either of you."

Puck snorted. "Your point? Not like you're getting her, Mr. Cohen-Chang Chang." The two boys got constant amusement from Mike's relationship with Tina Cohen-Chang, a fellow student of his at Julliard. He was whipped around her, but it was obvious the two loved each other.

Mike held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just stating a fact. Girls with legs like that don't talk to guys with personalities like yours." He laughed and drained the last of his beer. "Puck it's your turn to get the refills."

Finn jumped up like a puppy that had to pee. "I'll get them!" He started toward the bar and Puck pulled him back by his collar. "The Hell, Puckerman!"

"Down boy, Mike's right. You don't have a snowball's chance." He smirked. "Me, on the other hand…"

Finn huffed. "Yeah right, Puck. Girls don't really dig the full-of-himself douchebag routine." He whined when Puck socked him in the bicep.

"Shut up, asshole. I bet you I can get her phone number."

"I bet you can't get a kiss from her, or her phone number. Either of you." Mike spoke up. "Now hurry up and fight over it. I wanna finish this game sometime tonight."

Puck waved his hand. "After you, Finnocence."

"What are we betting?" Finn asked, dubious.

"Hundred bucks." Puck said, at the same time Mike replied with, "Month's rent."

"Fine." He stalked over to the bar and ordered their beers, then turned and tapped the pocket size girl on the shoulder. She half-turned and Puck finally got a good look at her face.

She had these huge brown eyes that made you want to drown, or do whatever she asked. On anyone else, they'd look freakish, but they were hot on her. Her nose wasn't really anything special, not small like most girls but not overly large either, and he liked it on her. Her mouth was glossed and perfect, her lips a pretty shade of pink that he just wanted to kiss until they were swollen and red.

Suddenly, Puck wanted to win the bet. And maybe take her home with him as a prize. He watched as she smiled at something Finn said, then shook her head. Puck straightened up as the beers were set on the bar and Finn came back over, looking dejected.

"Well?" Mike asked, smiling knowingly.

"I got her name." Finn said half-heartedly. "But nothing else. She was nice, though, about turning me down. Her girlfriend was trying really hard not to laugh, and the guy with them was all dramatic."

"My turn." Puck said confidently, setting his beer on the table and handing off his cue to Mike. "Watch and learn, boys."

Rachel was enjoying herself. She'd had a horrible day, and when Santana had barged into her room, declaring they were going to get drunk and tossing clothes at her, Rachel wasn't entirely open to the idea. Her audition today had gone less than favorably, and she would have preferred to stay in and watch Funny Girl, but she dragged herself off her bed and put on the clothes San had thrown at her- tight jeans, a low cut red blouse and black cardigan. She'd dug her favorite red heels out of her closet and curled her hair before sitting down and submitting herself to Santana's makeup guidance. She was still pretty hopeless when it came to eye shadow, beyond a little bit here and there. After getting an approval from Kurt (no one left the house without one, unless they managed to sneak around him), they'd walk down the street to the little bar they usually frequented. San had started the night by immediately ordering a shot, then moved on to Jack & Coke, while Rachel and Kurt both enjoyed a glass of wine. Rachel wasn't much of a drinker after an incident in high school at a party. Getting puked on had been the worst thing she'd ever experienced, and after that she avoided copious amounts of alcohol.

Currently, San was commenting on the lack of booty call available in the room, of both genders. Rachel smiled at her drunk friend, enjoying her brutal honesty as usual. People always called Santana a bitch, but Rachel liked having someone who would be truthful with her, no matter how hurtful. She'd never had anyone like that in high school, except Kurt, but even he had been fragile with her. San was blunt, and never afraid to tell Rachel when to "suck it the fuck up" or "shut the fuck up" (really, her language could use some work, but Rachel tried to ignore it).

Kurt gripped her arm and smiled. "Hotties, right behind you." He leaned closer, giving her a reason to turn enough to see what he was talking about from the corner of her eye. "The one with the Mohawk is seriously checking you out. You should go for it."

Rachel snorted rather rudely, before noticing Kurt's pout and sighing. He was happily committed to his boyfriend of 6 months, Blaine, and wanted his best friend to be as happy as he was. Everywhere they went, he threw her at "potential leading men" to see if anyone clicked. So far, she'd had to politely turn down an accountant, a lawyer, and a business executive. She didn't know how Kurt knew the men he shoved her on were rich, but he did.

"A Mohawk, Kurt? That doesn't fit your type." She poked him lightly in the side, giggling at his expression.

"He's rugged, and granted probably not worth much, but he has huge arms and is undressing you with his eyes."

"Kurt-" She rolled her eyes at a tap on her shoulder, expecting it to be the person in question when she turned around. Instead, a tall young man with brown hair and a goofy grin stood there, looking down at her.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." She smiled at his dorkiness, as it reminded her of one of her boyfriends from high school. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, I, uh…" He struggled for words, and she giggled. His grin grew bigger, like he knew he'd done something good if she was laughing. "I was wondering what your name is?"

"I'm Rachel Berry, and you are…"

"Finn. Finn Hudson. My friends and I over there were just uhm, admiring you and I was wondering if I could have your phone number?" He glanced over at Santana, who was eyeing him like a cat in heat, and then nervously back at her. She smiled at him gently.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but I can't help you. I don't mean to shoot you down, but it's a really bad time." She put her hand on his arm. "You're a very nice man, though." He nodded, smiled at her one last time, and headed back to the pool table where his friends stood waiting. Kurt was behind her, drabbling on about how the boy was adorable and all, but really he was like a puppy, and she needed a man. San looked at her and told her he was probably horrible in bed anyway.

She was about to turn around when his friend came stalking over, the one with the Mohawk. He was wearing dark jeans with a tight black t-shirt that literally hugged every part of his upper body, and his green eyes were zeroed in on her like she was prey. She felt a shiver go up her back, and gripped Kurt's hand under the table reflexively, making the boy smile at her smugly. She let go of his hand as the man stopped in front of her.

"Hi." She managed to gasp out, noting that her mouth felt really dry. Maybe she should switch to water.

"Hi." He replied, his voice a lazy rumble as he leaned against the bar and into her. "So, what's wrong with my friend?"

"W-what?"

"Finn. What's wrong with him? Not that I'm complaining, because clearly he doesn't deserve someone like you, but I just need to know- as his boy and all- what you found wrong?"

"N-nothing was wrong with him." She said indignantly, disliking the way this Neanderthal was talking to her. He was so casual, as if she was a "sure thing", to borrow Santana's phrase. It was inappropriate and irritating. "I simply didn't feel comfortable giving a virtual stranger I met in a bar my phone number. For that matter, I do not feel comfortable with the familiar way you're addressing me, when we haven't even been introduced."

"Do you always do that?" He asked, one eyebrow raised in question, and Rachel did not feel anything remotely attractive about it (at least, that's what she told herself).

"Do what?"

"Use ten words when you could've used five?"

She sputtered in shock as Kurt bust out laughing and Santana cackled. She glared at her friends before leveling a cool stare at him. "You are being incredibly rude, and I would like it if you left me alone. I am sorry for turning down your friend, but you can inform him it was due to no flaw on his part." She turned around in her stool and gave him her back, disliking it when he chuckled.

"There you go again." He said, grabbing the stool and spinning her around as she gasped. She opened her mouth to tell him off, when his lips covered hers. Her eyes widened, and she pushed at his chest, but he wrapped a giant (lovely) arm around, his hand spanning her lower back. She closed her eyes and gave up, admitting to herself that yes, the kiss was nice. He was ruthless, and the kiss was possessive and demanding. Just as she began to melt into him, he pulled back with a triumphant grin on his face. She sat there, breathless and dreamy-eyed, as he dug her phone out of her jacket pocket and put his number in. "My name's Noah Puckerman. Friends call me Puck. I'm twenty-six, a firefighter, and Jewish." He slid her phone back into her hand as Kurt squealed in delight and took Puck's phone. "You are?"

"Rachel Berry." Kurt answered for her, a shit-eating grin on his face as he typed in her info. "Budding Broadway star, twenty-four, vegan and also Jewish. She also has no gag reflex." That snapped Rachel from her daze.

"KURT!" She practically screamed, turning several shades of red. Puck laughed and leaned in close to her to take his phone back from Kurt. "I like the sound of that scream." He whispered in her ear. "Can't wait to hear it again." His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist as he walked back to the table, and she spun around to glare at her best friends.

"Kurt-"

"Rachel, he's a _firefighter_! If you don't call him, I will do it myself and tell him dirty, dirty things about you. That's final." He crossed his arms over his chest in victory when she gave up and slammed back the rest of her wine. "Good. Now I say you cut to the point and invite yourself home with him. You need it, desperately." He kicked her leg until she stood up, and San grabbed her wrist as she passed.

"Go tap that, hot mama. And send his tall friend over here, I'm sure I could teach him a thing or two."

She shook her head at her horny friend and tried her best to strut over to the pool table, attempting to ignore the heat in her belly. She cleared her throat and Puck turned around, leaning against the table.

"I believe I'll call you Noah, if that's okay with you." She stated, putting a small (cute) hand on his bicep. "Your arms are lovely."

Finn and Mike snickered as he leaned close and breathed into her ear, "Is it true? That thing about you having no gag reflex?" When she nodded, her strawberry scented hair brushing against his cheek, he put his pool cue on the table behind him and put an arm around her waist. "Then you can call my arms lovely as much as you want, babe. Wanna get outta here?" She nodded again and he threw a goodbye at his bros before escorting her to the door. She paused and looked back at him.

"My friend Santana was interested in your friend Finn." She bit her bottom lip as she looked up at him, and he grinned.

"Finn!" He half-turned and caught his friend's gaze before pointing to the lushy Latina. "Go get some." The two of them walked out and he realized for the first time that it's pouring rain. "Now what?"

She smiled up at him. "My apartment isn't far from here." He dropped an arm on her shoulders and waved his hand.

"Lead the way, Rachel Berry."


	2. Cookies

Hi! So, since I have a few stories already written up (by a few, I may mean like, a LOT) I want to try and post a story everyday. I also want to try and add a chapter to the AU one-shot fluff I got going on. People really seemed to like that.

On that not, OMG YOU LIKE ME! I can't tell you how happy I am that you guys really liked the first one-shot! **aussiegleek18**, I am for sure going to add more one-shots, and there will be connections to previous chapters in them! I LOVE this AU world I created now, and I'm glad everyone else does, too.** jennh07**, I know! Firefighter Puck is HOT! It helps that I really want to marry a fireman someday... Other shout-outs go to** Veronique Ruthven**, who really wanted a update, as well as **Lov2-Travel** and **lizzybennettdarcy** for their nice reviews. Keep it up guys, and I promise to keep up with this AU!

**Rating** on this one is PG-13, because aside from Puck's mouth (and mind), there's no smut. It's just adorable fluff inspired by the one time I visited my friend at his job (Sadly, he is NOT a firefighter- although he IS hot- and I can't bake cookies that good. According to him, though, my cupcakes are the equivalent ;)

Puck finished washing off the ladder truck and gave Matt the go-ahead to take it back into the station's garage. Sometimes he really hated summer, like when the chief volunteered him to be on wash duty. Puck scrubbed his hand over his Mohawk and sighed. It was hot as hell in New York, and he felt ready to drop dead.

"Puckerman! Someone here to see you!" He walked into the station and when he saw a tiny brunette perched on his desk, mile-long legs (God, he loved those legs) swinging, his thoughts immediately vanished. He grinned as she turned and noticed him, her face lighting up.

"Noah!" She was wearing this tiny little blue sundress, which gave him a great view of her cleavage. As he drew closer, he noticed some of the other guys checking her out, and he glared at them. "I had some free time and thought I'd bring you lunch." She held up a little wicker basket and his grin widened. There was nothing better than his girl's cooking. He stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips as she twined her arms around his neck. She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, which he responded to by capturing her mouth with his and completely owning (Fuck if the guys got to think she was on the market). When they finally came up for air, she was a bright shade of red. "Noah, it's vastly inappropriate to kiss me like that in front of your fellow workers." He shrugged and began rooting through the basket, anxious to get some of her good cooking. She sighed a long-suffering sigh and pulled a salad from her purse. "There's meatloaf and pasta salad in there, as well as some homemade lemonade. I thought you might be hot on a day like today. I also thought I'd join you for lunch." She held up her salad as he sat down at his desk and smiled. "I also made you some cookies-"

"Whoa, babe, stop. You made me cookies? Like those apology cookies you made for Mike after accidentally hitting him with a dart?" He dug through the basket more aggressively, eager to get to the cookies.

"Yes, I did, and as I've told you before, that was completely accidental. Really, Noah, it should be your fault, as I told you I have terrible hand-eye coordination in matters relating things of that nature-" He silenced her with a quick kiss on the mouth upon finding the big Tupperware container of cookies. As he opened it, Matt and Sam came wandering over, their faces a mix of curiosity and awe. Rachel's face light up like a menorah (He's still a proud Jew, fuck you very much) at the sight of them.

"You must be some of Noah's fellow firefighters! It's an honor to meet such upstanding people who care about the welfare of New York's citizens. Are you friends of Noah's? What are your names?"

"Babe, 5 words." It had become a bit of a joke between them that whenever Rachel went off on her spiel, he'd remind her it was okay to use 5 words instead of 10. She batted at him before taking his cookie container.

"Would you boys like a cookie?" They each took one and bit into it as she watched, expectantly. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head, and Matt grinned.

"I'm Matt, Ma'am." He said, sidling up closer to her and putting on his best charm. "I don't know where Puckerman's been hiding you, but if you cook as good as these cookie's make me think, I understand it completely." Rachel giggled as a few more firefighters made their way to his desk, and she began passing out (his!) cookies to all of them, including the chief. The men all began fawning over her, offering compliments and praises and even phone numbers (which she politely refused and he scowled at). When all the cookies were gone, they made it known that she was welcome any time, and that she could always bring food with her. She set the empty Tupperware on his desk and smiled that 1000-watt smile at him.

"Your co-workers are all very nice." She said, taking a bit of her salad. "They were very welcoming."

"That's because you gave them my cookies, and your cookies have magic powers." He said evenly, trying not to be angry at his pint-sized girlfriend for being considerate.

"Noah, as I've informed you already, my cookies do not have magic powers. That is simply ridiculous."

"Fine, Rach, let's return to the fact that you gave them _my_ cookies!" He looked at her exasperated, and he did his best not to pout (he was a total badass, but he'd do anything for those cookies). She bit her bottom lip and had the decency to look apologetic. She hopped off the desk and put her arms around his neck, kissing him gently on the mouth, before packing her salad away and grabbing the empty (it used to have his cookies, goddamit) container.

"I'm sorry, Noah. I suppose I'll have to make it up to you by baking you a big batch of apology cookies." She gave him one last peck before strolling off, waving goodbye to all the men as she did. They gave her enthusiastic goodbyes in return, and he stared after her longingly. Matt and Sam showed up again, and he rolled his eyes.

"You bastards ate all my cookies, what do you want now?"

Sam grinned and Matt smirked. "Where'd you meet her, Puckerman? Did you bust into heaven and kidnap her or something?"

He smiled at the memory of their meeting and shook his head. "Would you believe I met her in a bar and got her thanks to a bet?" When the guys shook their heads, he shrugged. "I'm just damn lucky I got her." He glanced over at the two, who were still standing there. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, does she have a twin sister?"

Puck rolled his eyes before turning back to his deskwork.


	3. Banana Pancakes

Summary: There's no need for Rachel to go outside on a Sunday when it's raining, and it's Puck's job to make sure she stays in.

*Happy sigh* I just wanna let you guys know how glad I am that you like my stories so far. I haven't really written anything that I could deem "public-worthy" in a very long time, and then I just started sitting down and these all came to me. I gotta admit, I was a bit worried they wouldn't be liked, so your positive reviews are so encouraging to me! The only other positiveness I've gotten is from my sister, who's my Beta, but since she's in college, it's harder for us to communicate.

So, this one is NOT a songfic, although it IS inspired by the song by Jack Johnson (I 3 Jack Johnson, and would LOVE to hear Puck sing one of his songs. I know it's not really his "style", if you go by what he's sung already, but his voice would just be so perfect, and he plays guitar). It's also inspired a bit by something me and my now ex-boyfriend used to do on rainy days, and that I now do with my two BFFs as we apartment hunt.

On rainy days, my boyfriend and I would hang out- either at his or my house- and we'd make like, a HUGE amount of banana pancakes, and watch movies all day. Just kind of laze around, eat the pancakes, and enjoy each other's company. It's the only thing I missed when we broke up, so my sister and my best friend picked up the tradition and the three of us do it now (although, lately, we've been apartment hunting. We've discovered that these rainy days play a huge part in what apartment we get. Needs to have an okay kitchen, etc.) ANYWAY, I've bored you enough, here's PUCKLEBERRY (I know it's all you really care about, and that's okay, because I love it, too):

Puck stirred the bed moved a bit, and rolled over to see Rachel getting up and moving toward the bathroom. He looked at the clock and the red digits reading 6:00 AM glared back at him angrily. The curtains were closed, so he didn't know what it was like out there, but judging by the loud sound on the window pane, and the fact that it was November, it was most likely really dark.

The faucet in the bathroom ran, and Puck groaned before sitting up. This Sunday was one of his few days off that matched Rachel's, and he'd be damned if she'd be acting like it was an ordinary day, especially if it was raining. When the light in the bathroom went out and Rachel padded past him, wearing nothing but a bra and her underwear, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her on to his lap.

"Noah!" She complained softly as he nuzzled her hair. "Let me up! I have things to do!"

"Babe, it's Sunday. We both have the day off and it's pouring outside. Just stay in today, just this once." He moved from nuzzling her hair to kissing her neck, alternating tiny love bites with chaste kisses.

"Noah…" She sighed and melted back into him, giggling a little and shaking her head. "I really shouldn't…"

He tugged on her earlobe lightly with his teeth, and she shivered. "I'll make banana pancakes." He promised into her ear, and smiled in triumph when she gave up completely, turning into him. She put her arms around his neck and smiling.

"Well… if banana pancakes are involved…"

They spent the entire day with the apartment door locked, cuddling in front of the television with a big plate of banana pancakes and taking turns picking movies. At 5 o'clock, when Puck shut off the TV and tugged Rachel into their darkened bedroom, tickling her and spinning her a bit in his arms, she leaned into him and looked up at him with this teasing smile. "How is it that every time it rains, you manage to convince me to stay in and be lazy with you?"

He smirked as he kicked the bedroom door closed, a plate of banana pancakes still on the coffee table. "'S just part of my charm, baby. Just part of my charm."


	4. AUTHOR'S NOTE

AHH! OMMIGOD YOU GUYS ARE SO EFFIN' FABULOUS! Seriously, my ego is like, ridiculously huge thanks to you guys and all your love. I'll be sure to keep writing and I promise that unless something absolutely horrifying happens, I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY AND LEAVE YOU ALL IN THE DARK. I HATE when authors do that (for no reason, mind you, sometimes they have legit good reasons) and it breaks my heart. You guys have been so great, I won't- COULDN'T- do that to you. I solemnly swear it on Puck's Mohawk.

Furthermore, I've started getting requests- and I LOVE them! I love hearing what you guys want from Puckleberry. My imagination and inspiration can only take me so far, and your ideas are great. I will always do my best to get up requested chapters as soon as I can, and I've written down the different requests I've gotten, and who requested who so that I don't forget to give shout-outs. If I happen to forget, for any reason, DO NOT hesitate to let me know. I don't want anyone feeling left out because I had a brain fart and didn't include them. That would make me sad.

So, since I like requests so much, keep them coming! If you have a personal experience you think would look good done Puckleberry style, and you don't mind sharing, send it over! If you've just ideas bouncing around in your head and don't know where to run with them- I'll be happy to write something as a present for you and post it! Also, I will take prompts. I don't subscribe to any of the memes (someone told me they're addicting, and I don't wanna get hooked) but if you have anything you'd like to give to me as a challenge- I ACCEPT! I am here to make you guys happy, and to keep the Puckleberry happiness (and any other pairings I ship in the future) going.

I am sorry for some of the grammar mistakes. My Beta broke her laptop, and auto-correct on Word will only help me so much. I do proof-read and re-proof-read my stuff before posting it, but some things just slip through. Good news is, my sister/Beta is getting her new laptop in a few days, and we'll be back to our usual editing ways. So hopefully, the mistakes will be fewer in the near future…

So, I just wanted to give a shout-out to all you guys, since you've been SO nice to me so far! I'll do my best to keep up the good work!


	5. Cuddling

**Summary**: Rachel was beginning to notice that Noah had a peculiar habit- He was a cuddler.

***shiningstar07** had left a nice review (of course, everyone's reviews are nice ^.^) agreeing how great it would be to have a hot firefighter to cuddle every night. So, in a delightful hat tip (I mean literal as well as figurative because I was wearing my friend's top hat when I wrote this… don't ask), I wrote up this one-shot in her honor, about all the joys of cuddling :3

Rachel had only been dating Noah Puckerman for about a month when she began to notice little things about him- the way he laughed, how he really only like one kind of beer (Killian's Irish Red, which she found funny because he wasn't Irish), and how he didn't organize his music collection at all (something which drove her to madness).

But the thing Rachel had really picked up on in the month they'd dated was Noah's biggest, and perhaps most peculiar, habit- he liked to cuddle. He'd fly off on Finn and Mike when they questioned his "badassness", and was forever showing Rachel his biceps if she made even the slightest comment about his courage (she made it a point to do this often, as his arms were quite lovely), but once they were alone, all he wanted to do was cuddle. When they watched a movie, he'd pull her legs into his lap and wrap his arms around her waist, leaning into her. At night, when they fell asleep at whoever's apartment they were in (sometimes Santana and Kurt got sick of them and kicked them out; then they'd go to his place), he'd pull her back snug against his front, or use her chest as a pillow for his head, his big arms holding her close and sharing body heat. Even in the back of a cab, if they took one to go out (which was rare; she liked walking too much), she'd find herself snugly in his embrace, close enough that she could feel his breath on her hair.

Rachel found it cute that the self-proclaimed "BAMF" was secretly a cuddle fiend, and she didn't mind the closeness at all. In fact, it was one of her favorite things about him, and more than made up for his unorganized CD tower, his penchant for pork (he was a terrible Jew), and his tendency to leave his clothes all over the place. She made sure to never bring it up (unless she wanted to see his arms), and took every advantage to snuggle with him.

Puck had been dating Rachel for… well, she said it was only a month, but it honestly felt like fuckin' forever (not that he minded). In that month, he'd learned a few more things about the adorably tiny brunette he'd picked up in a bar on a bet (which Mike and Finn were never allowed to mention to anyone, God forbid she hear about it and go off on him- and not in a good way). He learned that she was really uptight about being tidy, her laugh was incredibly infectious, and she really only liked red wine (he made sure to always have a bottle on hand at his place).

But what he really learned is that Rachel liked to cuddle- like, A LOT. Any excuse to touch him and get as close as possible, she took advantage of. She never did it in front of company (she was pretty considerate of his badass image, probably 'cuz she liked his guns so much), but when they were alone. She was all into him. If they watched TV, she'd scoot really close to him and lean her head on his shoulder and put her feet in his lap. When they went to bed, even if they didn't have really fuckin' hot sex (which they had often; his roommates were getting annoyed), she wiggle until her back was right up against his front, or she'd lay on her back and run her nails through his 'hawk while he laid his head on her chest (it totally wasn't because he liked listening to her heartbeat, her boobs were just really comfortable). Even when they took a taxi (which he wished they'd do a little more often, even if the walking help him stay in shape), she'd be right there, flush up against him, all warm and soft and perfect (dude, he was _not_ turning into a fuckin' pussy, this chick was just all kinds of awesome).

The fact that she was seriously into close, personal contact made up for her annoying cleaning habits, her dislike of anything non-vegan (he was trying to corrupt her, but she was adamant or some shit like that), and her compulsive need to pick up his clothes whenever she was over. He never brought it up (he didn't wanna seem like a pansy), and every time she leaned into him, he made sure to wrap his arms around her and bring her as close as possible.


	6. Calendar Man

**Summary:** Santana finds out about the annual FDNY calendar, and Kurt and Rachel are on a mission to learn what month Puck is.

*Guys, I am SO sorry! I know I promised updates every day, but last night was my first night back at work after being sick, and when I finally got home- late- I sat down and just couldn't write. I was so tired and I felt so bad that nothing was coming out of my head. This is the first of a few uploads I'll post tonight in an effort to make it up to you!

**Rating**: M, for Puck and Santana's mouths as well as some talk of sexiness…

**Disclaimer: **As usual, I'm broke, and my dreams of a Puckleberry reunion on Glee are just that. All mistakes are mine and auto-correct's…

**~~~~Annnnndddd….. ACTION!~~~~**

Puck, Rachel, Finn and Kurt were seated in a small booth in the back of their usual bar when Santana came in, a huge shit-eating grin on her face. Without so much as a hello, she scooted into the booth next to Finn and pointed at Rachel. "You are _never_ going to believe this."

Rachel tried hard not to laugh at her friend. "Hello to you, too, Santana. What's so unbelievable?" She was snuggled against Puck's side, his arm draped over her shoulders and brushing against her breast. She took a sip of her wine.

"I just found out from a _very_ reliable source that the FDNY has an annual calendar, and that a certain mohawked firefighter is signed up to participate." She caught a waitress' attention and ordered a margarita before turning back to gage everyone's reactions. Puck had a bored, amused smile on his face, Kurt's mouth had dropped in shock (and delight), Finn looked slightly uncomfortable, and Rachel was sitting there, blinking.

"A calendar? Why is that such a big deal?" She looked between Kurt and Santana when the two bust out laughing, and then looked up at Puck, hurt. "I don't get it."

"Sweetie," Kurt said, placing a hand over Rachel's on top of the table. "The firefighter calendar is a, shall we say, _risqué_ way of raising money." When Rachel still looked confused, Santana rolled her eyes.

"It's a_ sexy_ calendar, B. The firefighters pose half-naked and all sexy like, women buy dozens of copies, and the money either goes to the firehouse or to a charity."

"And you signed up for this?" Rachel was looking at Puck now, and he quickly lost the amused smile. He had agreed to do the calendar months ago, before he had even met Rachel, and he hadn't really thought about it until Santana had brought it up. He ran a nervous hand over his 'hawk, hoping Rachel wouldn't make a big deal about it.

"Babe, it was before I met you. I wouldn't have signed up otherwise. If you want, I can tell the chief I'm backing out."

Rachel's lips quirked up into a devious, sexy little smile, and Puck was unsure how to feel about it. "On the contrary, Noah, I find the idea… interesting. What month are you?" At her question, his smile returned and he relaxed, drawing her as close as he could. He leaned down, toying at her hair with his fingers, and spoke right into her ear.

"I'll never tell." He rumbled softly, placing a kiss on the tip of her ear and making her giggle. Kurt and Santana both rolled their eyes and the display of affection but let it slide.

"One way or another, we'll get that information, Puckerman. I'd just give up and tell us now." Santana smirked over the salty rim of her glass, and Puck just shrugged.

"Whatever, Satan. Good luck trying." He looked down at Rachel. "You wanna go, babe? I'm getting tired." That was a lie, and everyone knew it. Noah Puckerman didn't look an inch like a tired man, but he did look like a man who was inches away from doing extremely private things with his girlfriend in a public place. Rachel nodded and the two stood. She got her coat while Puck settled their tab, and leaned into Kurt.

"You and I are going to find out what month he is. Tomorrow." She winked at him and he grinned coyly up at her.

"Why, Rachel, my darling diva, I thought you'd never ask." The two air kissed and she hurried to catch up to Puck at the door. As the couple left, Santana could hear them talking about the calendar.

"You know I'll find out what I want to know, Noah. I am very persistent in getting what I want."

"I know babe, but I think when we get home, I'll give you an argument so good, you'll completely forget what you were going after."


	7. First Fight

Summary: Puck and Rachel have their first fight, but Rachel doesn't seem to understand what fighting means.

*This was inspired by the movie Enchanted, when Giselle gets all angry, but then geeks out with happiness because she's angry (I just watched it and I was like, "that is too cute"). I knew Rachel wouldn't geek out over being angry (because she can be angry A LOT and VERY EASILY) but I just thought I'd spin it my way. As always, I love you guys for giving me love, and hope you like it.

Rating: Puck has such a dirty mouth….

Disclaimer: Hey, if EVERY Puckleberry fan wrote a letter to Ryan Murphy demanding he reunite them, do you think he'd make it happen? 'Cuz until then, it's all in his hands… and he's lazy….

~~~~Annnddd…. ACTION! (I've sorta made this my thing. If it annoys anyone, I'll stop, but it's what I say in my head when I start writing a story, so *shrugs*)~~~~

"God, Rach, why are you making such a huge fuckin' deal about this!" Puck followed Rachel into her empty apartment, an apartment they should be having wild, crazy sex in because her roommates were gone for the weekend, but were instead filling with their anger. They'd had such a great night, going out to dinner at this tiny little Italian place he'd found. They'd gotten a booth in the back, and when Rachel went to sit across from him, he pulled her in next to him and snuggled her against his side, saying to hell with social norms, he wanted his chick as close to him as possible. They shared a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs (well, he had the meatballs, she ate the pasta and sauce), and she broke her vegan streak in favor of real Italian cannoli for dessert.

The problem had been the waitress. She'd been flirty all night, trying real hard to be subtle about it (she failed miserably), and he'd done a great job of not staring at her huge boobs and completely focusing on Rachel and ignoring all the waitress' passes. But she'd written her number on the bottom of the check, and suddenly all of his effort was busted. Rachel saw it and freaked. To her credit, she gave him the cold shoulder in the restaurant as he paid the bill, leaving a really shitty tip in the hopes the chick got the hint. But the minute they were on the sidewalk, she flipped on him, going on about how he was so inconsiderate and such a pig, and how could he take her out for such a nice dinner and then spend the whole time eyeing up a blonde bimbo (the waitress had been a redhead, but he figured it wouldn't help his case to point that out). He'd pleaded with her the whole walk home (the restaurant was only a few blocks from her place), telling her there was no way he'd do that, and that the chick had gotten the wrong idea. Then, on the stairs leading up to her apartment, she'd screamed at him for being a prick and that he was leading her on and a whole bunch of other shit that basically questioned his entire being, and he went from apologetic to pissed. While she unlocked her door, he tried to keep his cool, and when she tried to shut it in his face, he shoved his way in.

"It's a big deal because I should be able to trust you, Noah! If we can't go out for a nice dinner without you eye-fucking our waitress, then how are we supposed to have a relationship?" She was near tears now, staring at him with those big brown eyes and her bottom lip trembling. He had to remind himself once again not to yell at the tiny chick in front of him, and scrubbed a hand over the back of his 'hawk.

"Look, Rach, she was coming on to me. I was totally on you! If you want, I'll go over everything you said during dinner, word for word." Puck was getting desperate now, his anger fading. Not only did he want to keep Rachel from crying (he hated it when she cried) but he also saw his chances of getting some slipping (it didn't make him an asshole, it was just a simple truth. And not only did he really wanna get laid, he loved cuddling with her afterward. Not that he'd admit that out loud). He stepped forward, reaching out to grab her, and she back away.

"That's not the point, Noah! The point is that obviously I'm not enough for you!" Rachel stormed into her room and slammed the door in his face. He heard the lock click and let his forehead fall against the wood with a loud thunk.

"Rach! You are way more than enough for me! I mean, seriously, I can't handle any more crazy than this!" Immediately, he knew that was the wrong thing to say and winced when he heard Rachel's aggrevated scream.

"Noah Puckerman, don't you dare call me crazy! I am not crazy!" Something slammed against the wood. Puck sighed and leaned his back against the door.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to call you crazy. And you aren't. You just act crazy sometimes, like when you get all jealous and angry at me and we fight about stupid shit like this."

"Well, we wouldn't fight about stupid 'shit' if you didn't make so… so… Oh, you make me so angry!" He heard her let out a gasp, and then the lock clicked. Her door swung open and he almost fell backward. He looked up at her and she had this look of amazement on her face. "I'm angry at you! We're fighting!" She looked happy now, and he got up off her floor, confused.

"Yeah, babe, we're fighting."

She beamed up at him. "Don't you get it, Noah? This is our first fight! We're having a fight, like normal couples!" She laughed and jumped at him, and he managed to catch her without falling over. She wrapped her legs and arms around his waist and kissed him soundly on the mouth before laughing some more. Noah just took it all in stride, because whatever made his girl happy made him happy (and increased his chances of getting to sex her up). Rachel finally stopped laughing long enough to kiss him again, and when the two came up for air, he grinned at her.

"Does this mean we can stop yelling at each other and have wild make-up sex, now?" He asked, even as he carried her to her room. She just nodded and laughed again.


	8. You Have Really Cute Hands

**Summary**: Puck and Rachel in bed, and Puck fascinated with Rachel's hands

**Inspiration**: The most adorable Lea/Mark moment I've ever seen (with the exception of him teaching her how to skateboard), in an interview. She says something, and he's spent the whole interview watching her hands, and he just grabs one and says, "You have really cute hands, you know that?" and she just sort of says, "yeah" and laughs a little (her laugh is really infectious omg)

*I just want to say, this video is saved in my favorites because it's so cute. Mark doesn't really say much the whole interview, but he keeps sneaking glances at Lea's hands while she's talking, and when he mentions how cute they are, I geeked out, no lie. It was just too adorable, and I loved it, especially the way he just sort of grabbed one and looked RIGHT AT HER when he said it, and she just laughed and let him. I could watch it over and over. Look it up .com/watch?v=KNy0X2mMxGw Watch Mark the entire time and just the way he keeps glancing at her and her hands. And when he tells her how cute they are, he adds an "I just noticed" as if to shrug it off. TOO CUTE.

**Rating**: Ehh…. T, because there's implied sex and such. Puck's mouth isn't that bad in this, because it's just cute fluff. I love cute fluff (my sister says all this fanfic is screwing me up, and if I ever have another boyfriend, she's gonna show him all my fics and tell him that I want him to act like Puck in them… Won't deny, I might not mind that… .)

**Disclaimed.**

**~~~~Annndddd….. ACTION!~~~~**

Puck wrapped an arm around Rachel, tugging her close. She leaned her head against his chest and smiled up at him, her hair rumpled and her face glowing with the residual high of their awesome sex. They were currently cuddling in her bed, the sheets tangled and sweaty from the fun they'd had earlier.

Rachel let her hand wander over his abs, drawing lazy shapes with her fingers, and Puck watched, fascinated. He loved everything about Rachel- her hair (he loved tangling his fingers in it, and the way it smelled like strawberries), her big, brown eyes that he could just lose himself in, her body (especially her legs. Girls as short as Rachel shouldn't be allowed to have such long, hot legs), but he'd never really focused on her hands. They were tiny compared to his, but pretty. She had elegant, slender fingers, and her nails were short but manicured. They were currently painted a bright shade of red, which he suspected was Santana's doing because the color was the Latina's calling card and not really Rachel's thing. She preferred purples and blues (even though her favorite color was yellow, which he knew because a guy needs to know his girl's favorite color and shit like that).

He picks up her hand and turns it over, looking at it and playing with it. He runs a thumb over the nail polish. He looks down and she's looking up at him, a question in those eyes and a soft smile still on her face.

"You have really cute hands, you know that?" He laces their fingers together and rests their combined hands on his chest, and she laughs a little at him. "I just noticed."

She shakes her head and curls up close to him, closing her eyes to drift off. He closes his, too, and they fall asleep, their hands still intertwined over his heart.


	9. Comatose

Summary: Puck realizes he needs Rachel like he needs to breathe.

Inspiration: Loosely based Skillet's song "Comatose", although this is not a songfic. I'm not really a huge songfic person; I just like the little videos that I dream up in my mind when I hear songs. This one is kinda angsty, and I apologize because I don't really like writing angsty (I prefer cute, straight up fluff because it makes me happy), but this song was playing and it just sort of flowed from my hands. I'm kind of surprised by my own angst….

Rating: M, just to be safe. Always be safe, kiddies.

DISCLAIMED

~~~~Annnddd…. ACTION!~~~~

Puck trudged up the stairs to his apartment, still covered in soot and grime. His boots made a dull thudding noise as he climbed the steps, doing his best to ignore the ache in his joints. He wanted today to be over, wanted the memory of seeing two good firefighters go into a building and never come out. He wanted the pain in his leg to go away, the ache in his heart to leave, and the anger in his soul to cool. He couldn't lash out at anyone, because it wasn't anyone's fault. They'd killed the fire, but that hadn't killed his rage. Nobody should've died today.

She shoved open his door and ran a dirty hand over his equally dirty face. Shuffling toward his room, he saw Rachel curled up on the sofa, waiting for him. She looked up at him, tears in her big brown eyes. "Finn called me." She said softly. She stood up and walked over to him, putting a hand on his arm.

That was what crumbled him. He fell to the floor on his knees, and Rachel followed him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his temple. She didn't care that he got dirt all over her, or that the self-proclaimed "badass" was crying on her shoulder. She simply sat there with him, in the middle of his apartment, holding him while he fell apart. Afterward, when he had nothing left, she helped him to the bathroom and into the shower, standing there and helping him get clean. He washed her hair, even though he was sure it didn't need it, because he loved doing it. She kept glancing up at him, giving him these sad little smiles. He didn't know what to say, what to make of it.

She crawled into bed with him, even though it was only 3 in the afternoon. She probably had rehearsals or something. She let him wrap his big arms around her and they just held each other, light from outside breaking through his blinds. She didn't press him for details, or ask what happened, she just held him. Briefly, in the back of his mind, he thinks to himself that this is the first time he's heard her this quiet when sex wasn't involved, but he doesn't dwell on it. Eventually, they fall asleep together, their heads on each other's shoulders.

"I was right there." It's a few hours later, and they're still in bed. Finn and Mike haven't come home, which he guesses means that Finn told Mike what happened and the two are respecting his space. It's dark out, and even darker in their bedroom. He's hungry, but doesn't get up. He doesn't want to leave his bed, afraid that if he does, she'll vanish and he'll be all alone with his pain. "I was right behind them, and I had to go back. Fucking tank wouldn't work right." They're facing each other, inches apart, their hands tangled together on the pillows. She's just sort of watching him, her eyes soft and free of judgment. "So I turn around to go back, and I hear this sound, and I look back and the fucking entrance is just _gone_." It had been bad, the entire place basically caving in. Kyle and Rick had been inside, and when the chief had sent him home, they were still sorting through the rubble for them. "And I'm just standing there like a dumbass, and the only thing I can think is, _'That could've been me'_." He feels her grip his hand a little tighter, and he knows that she was thinking the same thing. "And it's fucking horrible, because even as I think it, and I realize that Kyle and Rick are _fucking in there_, the only other thought I have is, _'I can't leave her'_." He looks at her, so close he can see her clearly even in the dark, and he wants to cry again. "It was so stupid. I wasn't even hurt, but it kept echoing in my head. _'I can't leave her'_, like a motherfucking chant or some shit. I'm taking off my equipment, and I overhear one of the guys mention calling Rick's wife, and I think, _'That could've been Rachel'_." He looks at their hands. "I'm such a fucking terrible person because two guys I work with are _trapped_ in a _fucking collapsed building_, and all I can think about is my girlfriend and how _fucking scared I was that it could've been me."_

"It doesn't make you a bad person, Noah." She says softly. "It makes you human." And he nods, like he agrees with her, but really he doesn't. He looks human, acts human, but he can't be human, because humans need air to breathe and live, and he's pretty damn sure they only thing he needs to live is her.

She's next to him at the funeral, her hand linked with his and her brown eyes somber. She knew the guys, too, with all the time she spent around the firehouse and all the drinks she joined him and the men for. Rick had always joked about leaving his wife for her and her cookies, but everyone knew he loved the woman. They'd been married thirty years, and he never once dreamed of any other lady. His wife is a few chairs down, trying to hold it together and failing. They're all trying and failing.

Kyle had been relatively new, and young. He was only 20, still a kid, and Rachel had held a soft spot for him. She mothered him, always bringing him food and consoling him when the guys teased him. Puck knew she hadn't meant anything other than friendship by it, but it had still bothered him. He used to whine about it to her, and she'd laugh and tell him that he was more than enough for her to handle. It turned out Kyle had a girlfriend anyway, a pretty redhead he'd been with since his sophomore year of high school, who followed him out to the city when he came to join the FDNY. She's two away from him, crying silently and staring at the picture of him next to his coffin. Puck wonders why Kyle never mentioned her, or if the kid had and he just never paid attention.

He takes a few weeks off and the chief doesn't argue, telling him to go home to his girl. Puck does just that, climbing the stairs to her place two at a time. She asked Kurt and Santana to give them the apartment for a few days, and the place is quiet when he goes in. She's lying in bed on her stomach, face red and splotchy from crying and still in her black dress. Her brown hair is spread out around her like a blanket, and he crawls next to her and wraps her up in his arms. She stirs a bit and then settles, murmuring his name. He buries his face in her hair and breathes, trying to get the strawberry scent to stick in his nose forever. He adores this tiny little Jewish diva that talks too much, needs to be in control too much, and for some odd reason believes in him so much. Someone so small shouldn't rule his life, but she's buried herself deep within him to the point where he can't do anything, doesn't want to do anything, without her- eat, sleep, breathe, _live_. She takes away his pain, and gives him a reason to keep going when he'd really just like to punch a wall and give up.

He lays awake for the longest time, holding a sleeping Rachel in his arms and thinking. He spends a few hours telling himself that he should break up with her, end it before she crawls even farther under his skin. He rationalizes it, arguing that it makes sense, and it would be better for her. He can't hurt her, and staying with him means that one day she'll get that call, the one that shatters her life. He doesn't want that for her. But the other half of him fights back, throwing in his face the whole point to his rationale.

He _can't_ hurt her. When he thinks about anything he does making this girl cry, or break down, he literally feels a stab at his heart, as if there's a pin there that reacts to the idea of her in pain and pricks him. The idea of leaving her is gone when he thinks about what it would do to her- how she'd cry. He'd rather be selfish and keep her for as long as he can, than let her go for some stupid, self-righteous reason.

Squeezing her a little, he slips away and pads to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he comes back, she's awake and looking up at him with these sleepy, trusting eyes and small smile, and he reaches out and cups her cheek. She nuzzles his hand and tells him to come back to bed, and he does because he can't tell her no. He can't even try.

He's aware as they fall asleep holding each other that most people would call him whipped, but he doesn't think so. He's just wrapped around her finger, which not only means that she owns him (she so does) but that he owns her, too. And possession is nine-tenths of the law.

Puck prides himself on being a law-abiding citizen, when the law works in his favor.


	10. New Friends

Summary: Rachel visits Puck at the fire station and makes a new friend.

Inspiration: Who doesn't love making new friends? Plus, I had to fit some more Gleeks into this story =)

*I honestly have no message for you guys. I love that you're still in love with the story, that you keep reviewing, and- most importantly- that you keep reading. There will be more!

Rating: It's Fluffy Fluff! :3

DISCLAIMED

Rachel hummed to herself as she walked into Noah's fire station. She had a burger and fries from his favorite diner for him, as well as a slice of pumpkin pie (Thanksgiving wasn't for a few weeks, but he loved pumpkin pie). She also had a salad and a slice of cherry pie for herself, and was looking forward to their weekly lunch date. She always visited him on Thursdays, and they'd share lunch and spend some time together. His co-workers were quite nice, and she enjoyed just sitting on his desk and talking with him.

She waved to a few of the men as they called out hellos and smiled. She stopped for a few minutes to ask Greg how his son was doing (he had broken his arm climbing a tree a few weeks ago) and made sure to stop in and chat with the chief. Noah said that he was a grizzly bear, but Rachel knew he was a teddy at heart. After asking after his family and telling him about her newest role (the firefighters loved Rachel's work, apparently. She always saw a few of them in the audience, and got flowers after performances. They even had some articles about her tacked up on the bulliten board. It all made her blush), Rach happily made her way to Noah's desk, but paused when she saw a blonde woman sitting across from him. They were talking like old friends, and the way Noah leaned forward made it obvious that they knew each other well.

Rachel felt a stab of jealousy and tried to brush it off. She had no right to be jealous; Noah was many things, but not a cheater. She couldn't help but wonder, though, if the blonde was an ex-girlfriend. The thought frightened her. She wasn't ready to meet one of his exes. Finn had told her once that Noah usually went after girls for their looks, and Rachel knew she wasn't exactly the prettiest girl around (although Noah always said she was beautiful and made her feel like it was true). Rachel began to panic at the idea of Noah seeing her next to his ex. What if he realized she wasn't pretty? What if he wanted his ex back? Trying not to hyperventilate, Rachel ducked behind a wall so that Noah wouldn't see her.

Now she felt a little ridiculous. She was hiding from her own boyfriend, a very loyal, loving boyfriend who wanted to share an apartment with her, and all because she was scared that he wouldn't find her attractive anymore when standing next to his ex-girlfriend. Rachel felt completely foolish. The blonde may be better in the looks department, but she wasn't Rachel Berry. Noah loved her because she cooked for him, and supported his work, and put up with his attitude (he also loved her because she had no gag reflex, but that was something he only mentioned when they were alone together and usually engaged in sex). Squaring her shoulders, Rachel was determined to storm in there in true Rachel Berry fashion and show that hussy what was what. But just as quickly, she deflated, realizing that she might embarrass Noah if she did that. That was one of the last things she wanted to do.

While Rachel fought with herself over what course of action to take, she was surprised by a visitor. "Rachel?"

She looked up and there stood Sam, Noah's coworker and one of his friends. The blonde, big-mouthed (she wasn't being rude, his mouth was a tad large) firefighter was staring at her with concern, so she put on her best, most-blinding smile.

"Sam! It's good to see you! How have you been lately?"

"Yo, Evans!" Rachel cringed at Noah's voice and bit her lower lip. She saw Sam wave to her boyfriend, who clearly hadn't seen her yet. Sam turned his attention to her.

"It's Thursday, isn't it, Rachel? So you're here for lunch. C'mon, Puck's probably wondering where you are." He took her elbow and steered her toward Noah's desk, and Rachel resigned herself to her fate. She tried to smile as they came up to the pair, and Noah's face lit up.

"Hey, baby. I was wondering when you were gonna show." He put his big, rough hands on her hips and gave her a kiss. "I was gettin' hungry."

"Noah Puckerman, that better not be the only reason you were wondering where I was." She said with mock indignation, looking up at him with a raised brow (she'd forced Kurt to teach her how to do that in eleventh grade). She sighed as he gave her another, longer kiss and leaned into him.

A throat cleared and the couple parted, smiling at each other. Rachel held up the takeout bag and Noah looked as happy as a child at Christmas (she assumed, she wouldn't know). He sat down and dug into the food, while Rachel took her usual seat on the corner of his desk and looked at Sam and the blonde, who had stood up and was smiling. She was clearly pregnant.

"Rachel, this is Quinn, my fiancée. Quinn, this is Puckerman's girl, the one I was telling you about."

"The one with the cookies?" Quinn asked. "The one you said you were sure fell from heaven and should be immortalized in statue, all because of her cookies?" Rachel turned a bright shade of red as Quinn looked her over. She recognized a threatened female when she saw one, and stared her down. The only way to earn the respect of someone like Quinn was to make them give it to you. Rachel had learned that in high school.

"'S true, though." Puck said, his mouth full of burger. "Her cookies are like, motherfuckin' genius." He winked at her and she rolled her eyes, swatting at his arm and laughing.

"Noah, language. Not only are ladies present, but one is pregnant. It's impolite to curse." She looked at Quinn. "I apologize for Noah. I've tried reforming him, but clearly he's going to be this way forever. I've learned to overlook it and love everything. Although sometimes, he's so rakish, it's almost impossible." She flashed a smile at Quinn, who looked slightly dazed.

"Five words, babe." Puck pointed out, shoving a fry in his mouth. "Don't think Quinn brought her dictionary with her."

"I understood her just fine, Puck." Quinn snapped. "Unlike you, I attended English class. It was just a little overwhelming, all of that coming from one tiny person so fast." She stuck out her hand at Rachel and smiled. "I think a formal introduction's in order."

Rachel took her hand and shook it, returning the smile. "Rachel Berry. Budding Broadway star, vegan, Jewish, and currently dating a Neanderthal." She smiled lovingly at Puck. "I like music, old movies and red wine."

"Quinn Fabray. Senior high school prom queen, current high school nurse. Not vegan, but I can work with that, not Jewish, and currently pregnant with Sam's kid. I like children, getting out of the house, and white wine."

The men spent the next ten minutes in awkward silence as Rachel and Quinn chatted and got to know each other. The two instantly became friends, which seemed to sort of frighten Sam (probably because Quinn used to be a bitch and didn't like anybody, but Puck didn't say that since he liked his balls where they were, thanks). Puck finished his food and Rachel's went untouched. She was so focused on Quinn she didn't even notice when Puck put his hand on her lower back and grinned at her. He loved that she seemed to be tackling a friendship with Quinn like she'd tackle a role- diving in and giving it her all.

Finally, an exasperated Sam told Quinn they'd be late for the doctor's appointment they had unless they left now. Quinn and Rachel exchanged phone numbers and goodbyes, and the blonde couple left.

"She's so nice." Rachel said, and Puck saw how happy she was. She looked down at him from her perch. "She's the first girlfriend I've had since I met Santana senior year." The last bit was said a little sadly, and Puck rubbed her back. He knew it was hard on Rachel, being so intense most people avoided her, but he loved her intensity.

"She'll be able to handle you, babe. Trust me, Quinn's intense like you. I went to high school with her, and she was Queen Bitch. But she's a good friend once you get to know her. And she's nicer nowadays. Probably hormones." He muttered the last part and got a smack on the head from his girl. She laughed and kissed it better before hopping off the desk and smoothing her skirt.

"I'd better go. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk today, Noah." She leaned in to give him a kiss and he obliged.

"'S cool. How 'bout dinner tonight? My place, 8:00. I'll make some Italian and we can apartment hunt online again." He tried not to sound like he was reaching, but it should be no secret to her that he wanted to spend time with her.

"Sounds yummy. I can't wait." She kissed him again and glanced at the clock. "I need to go. I promised to go shopping with Blaine for a present for Kurt's birthday, and you know that'll take forever. He's so difficult to shop for." One last kiss, and she was out the door. "8:00!" She called as she left, smiling.

Puck leaned back in his chair and smirked, proud of himself. Picking up his phone, he dialed Sam's cell and waited. When he heard the man pick up, he grinned.

"Mission accomplished, Evans. Not only does Rach have a new friend and Quinn'll get off your ass, but I get hot sex tonight. Thanks."

**A/N: Next up, some apartment hunting, and some other surprises ;)**


	11. You Dated a Douche, Babe?

**Summary:** Rachel and Puck run into her ex-boyfriend, Jesse St. James

**Inspiration:** That awkward moment when you have to introduce your boyfriend to your ex-boyfriend-turned-best friend (it's happened to me more than once)

*So, how's everybody doing? I'm just curious, how does everyone like me sneaking Glee characters into _These Are the Moments_? I'm trying to be interesting with it, and actually, one of the upcoming chapters has a few familiar faces… Just wait and see =)

**Rating:** M. Puck REALLY doesn't seem to like Jesse.

**DISCLAIMED**

**~~~~ACTION!~~~~**

Puck pulled open the door to the tiny café and stepped inside, scanning the place for his girl. She was tucked away at a corner table, sipping at something (tea, most likely. He learned she wasn't much of a coffee fan) and reading some sheet music. She had recently taken the role of Mimi in an off-Broadway production of RENT (she had freaked when it was offered to her, clutching his arm and exclaiming about how it was one more step to Broadway), and spent all her time reading and rereading the script and music, making sure everything was as perfect as possible.

He stepped up to the cash register and ordered a straight up coffee, pointing to her table so the lady would know where to send it, before he headed over and claimed the chair across from her. As he dropped into it, she looked up and beamed at him. "Noah! I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"Yeah, well, paperwork wasn't as bad as I thought it was. Sam helped with the last few things and we cut out early. Quinn invited us to dinner on Saturday."

If it was at all possible, Rachel's smile widened, and he felt proud. He knew how important it was for her to be liked, and that she had struck up a friendship with Sam's fiancée helped that. The guys at the station loved her, but that wasn't the same. Making a split decision, he leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose, making her blush a little and giggle. She swatted at his arm playfully before going back to her music. One of the waitresses brought his coffee over and they slipped into comfortable silence. She made notes on the papers with red pen while he flipped through a newspaper. It was like that for ten to fifteen minutes before the bubble burst.

"Rachel?" Puck watched as his tiny brunette girlfriend looked up and grinned in surprise. Some tall dude with curly hair and wearing tight pants stood next to the table, looking down at her in disbelief.

"Jesse!" Rachel jumped up and hugged him briefly, babbling about how it had been forever since they'd seen each other, and asking how he was. She was talking a mile a minute and had that huge "I just won a Tony" smile usually reserved for him, and Puck didn't like it.

"Babe?" He cleared his throat and tugged on her wrist, bringing her closer to him and away from the douche she was being way too familiar with.

"Oh, of course, where's my head? Noah, this is Jesse St. James, my ex-boyfriend. Jesse, this is Noah, my boyfriend of two and a half months." She sounded so proud, a hand on his chest as he stood next to her, an arm around her waist and her body pressed against his as much as possible. He stuck a hand out and Jesse shook it, and if Puck gripped his hand a little hard and made him wince, he didn't feel any satisfaction from it.

"Ex-boyfriend, huh?" The two men eyed each other, and Rachel realized she needed to step in before the situation got out of hand.

"Yes, Noah, ex-boyfriend." She stressed the ex and looked at him pointedly. "We dated for a few months in high school, but it never worked out. There were… problems." She looked at Jesse. "What are you doing these days, Jesse?"

"I'm a show choir consultant. College didn't really work for me." He flashed a grin (fake, if you asked Puck) at Rachel. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'm working my way through roles. I just got Mimi in an off-Broadway production, so that's exciting." She smiled up at Noah. "We're looking for an apartment, as well."

"And what do you do?" Jesse looked at Puck, curious and obviously sniffing for something.

"I'm a firefighter." Puck rumbled, staring down the curly-haired douche and winning.

"Noah is one of New York's finest." Rachel said it like he was the president of the fuckin' United States, and he couldn't help but smile at her and kiss the top of her head. She was always so proud of him, and always showing him off or going on about how great his job was. It really fuckin' sucked in reality (the hours were shit, if he were listing his biggest complaint), but she made it sound like living in paradise.

"A firefighter, that's fascinating. And how did you guys meet?" Jesse kept glancing between him and Rachel, and he didn't like it. At all. Douche was one step away from being fuckin' cold cocked.

"Oh, we met in a bar." Rachel said dismissively, waving a hand and laughing a little. "Noah was… hard to resist." She squeezed his bicep. "Are you seeing anyone, Jesse?" He shook his head and Rachel did that woman thing where she cooed and reassured him that he would meet a girl soon. Puck noticed how Jesse focused on Rach and nodded in agreement, clearing thinking that he wanted the girl to be her. Puck decided it was time they cut and run, before he had to punch this guy and piss off his girlfriend (they'd just gotten over some stupid fight, he didn't wanna start shit again).

"Hey, babe? We gotta go if we're gonna meet up with everyone, and I don't wanna be late. Last ones there buy the drinks, remember, and Satan fuckin' drinks like a fish. I'm not payin' for her drunk ass all night." She giggled and grabbed her sheet music and purse off the table, giving both men a nice view of her ass in a tight pencil skirt (although Puck kept his attention on St. Douche. He could stare at Rach's ass whenever he wanted). She gave Jesse another hug and told him once again how great it was to see him before tucking herself into Puck's side and leaving with him.

"So, you dated a douche, babe?" He watched as Rachel sputtered, putting down her wine glass and glaring at him.

"Who dated a douche?" Santana dropped into their usual booth with Finn behind her, and that meant that Mike was buying tonight. Kurt was at the bar ordering another round and some food.

"Rachel. She dated a fuckin' douchebag, and I don't like him." He draped an arm over her shoulders and tugged her close to him, bumping Finn's fist in greeting with his other hand. Santana leaned over the table and gave Rachel the usual peck on the cheek in greeting awhile, and Kurt came back at that moment with a basket of wings and a wine glass. Puck and Finn dug into the wings as Kurt and Rachel looked on in disgust.

"Wait, who are we talkin' about? Because the guy before you wasn't all that bad. I mean, he could've been richer, and a little better looking, and maybe if he hadn't ended up being gay-" Santana pressed her lips together when Rachel shot her a death glare, and Puck laughed. He already knew about Edward, her co-star from one of her shows who, after three weeks of dating, ended up hitting on Kurt and making Rachel break up with him. Kurt hadn't been too fond of it, either.

"St. Whatever. Apparently, they dated in high school, and the dude's a total douche."

Kurt placed a hand over his mouth and swallowed the mouthful of wine before laughing outright. "Oh my God, Jesse St. James! He met Jesse?" Kurt couldn't contain his laughter as Mike finally showed and pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Kurt, I fail to see what you find so funny. Jesse was a great boyfriend and a real gentleman when we dated."

Kurt snorted. "Yeah, until it turned out he was dating you to spy on our show choir before Regionals." He laughed again and fanned himself dramatically. "Do you remember how pissed Mercedes got when she found out? It took Britt, Rory and Mr. Schue to hold her back and keep her from killing him." He finally saw Rachel's face and stopped laughing. Sighing, he covered one of her hands with his own and smiled gently at her. "Honey, I'm sorry. Forget about it."

"Wait, the douche pretended to date you to cheat your choir out of a championship?" Puck looked at Rachel angrily. "That shit ain't kosher."

"Noah, just leave it be. It was high school, and I was very naïve. Besides, as soon as I found out about it, we broke up." She smoothed a hand over his mohawk and smiled. "Besides, I know what's really bothering you. You're jealous. And you have no reason to be. You are much more handsome than Jesse, as well as smarter and more morally appealing, even with your self-proclaimed 'badassness'. Plus, your arms are much lovelier than his." She leaned in close to whisper the last bit in his ear. "But most importantly, Jesse never made me scream like you do." She licked her lips as he looked down at her with a groan.

"Babe…" He glanced at their friends. "Think it's too soon to bail?" He whispered back. She giggled and nodded, and Puck felt ready to kill. "Damn."

"Keep it in your pants, Puckerman." Santana said with a smirk. "If you're good and stay until the end, Kurt and I'll give you the apartment for the night."

Puck sat back, shifting in his seat to try and a get as comfortable as he could (which wasn't much) and grinned down at Rachel. "I can handle it if you can."

She grinned up at him in return and bit her lower lip. "Bring it."


	12. Addiction

**Summary:** "I'm kinda addicted to you, you know that?"

**Inspiration:** Something adorable my best guy friend said to me, after I made a funny comment the other day.

*I had the _**WORST DAY EVER**_. 150 cars were broken into in my development, and _mine_ was one of them. The only thing they took was a pack of cigarettes, but that's worse than if they had stolen something more important, because those cigs have a special meaning to me. Two weeks after my uncle died, I came out of the grocery store into a hurricane (basically) and found- **undamaged and brand new**- a pack of the _same exact brand_ of cigarettes my uncle smoked. I _knew _they were there for a reason, and I've kept them in the car ever since. _Five years_ they've been a good luck charm in my car, and some assholes just ruined that. I feel so violated. On top of that, I came like, **inches **away from three separate car accidents on my way to work because no one in my area apparently understands the meaning of a stop sign and when I have right of way. Then, work took forever and was horrible. So. Glad I'm home, glad I can sit down and write some Puckleberry goodies, because I need an uplifter. Hopefully, you all had better days and will enjoy what I post tonight.

**Rating:** It's just fluff. Harmless, adorable, cotton candy-esque fluff. With a little mention of sexy times (I deliberately go out of my way to avoid in depth smut. I'm sorry guys, but until I actually get laid myself, it's just not happening .)

**DISCLAIMED**

Puck pulled a sleeping Rachel closer to him, letting her rest her head on his chest. She nuzzled her cheek against his warm flesh and mumbled something in her sleep before curling one tiny (cute) hand possessively over his nipple ring. He smirked and kissed her hair. He had tired her out today, but they hadn't seen each other in a few, what with him working and her rehearsing and their respective roommates desperate to sleep in their own beds (he decided they were apartment hunting tomorrow. They really needed their own place).

Rachel mumbled in her sleep again and Puck looked down at her. Her long eyelashes were hiding those beautiful brown eyes that got him to do anything. A bit of light from the bustling city outside snuck through his blind and hit her cheek just right, giving her a bit of a glow. Her pouty lips were curved in a semblance of a smile, and he figured (hoped) she was dreaming of him. Considering she was all he dreamed about anymore (Well, besides sports and shit. And the occasional nightmare, usually involving his batshit mother). She was wearing one of his FDNY shirts, the navy material rumpled and loose on her. She loved wearing his shirts, and he wasn't one to complain. She looked fuckin' hot as Hell in them.

Her long brown hair was loose and a little tangled from earlier, but it gave her this cute, adorable messy look. He loved her best when she was just waking up, before she put on all her makeup and did shit with her hair (he seriously wanted to throw her straightener out the window, and would if he didn't know that Santana would buy her a new one). When she was waking up, she was all disheveled and precious, making these squeaky, high-pitched dinosaur noises while she stretched, and smiling up at him. If Puck had his way, it would always be morning so that he could see her like that.

It was cold, since his heat had crapped out on them and Finn hadn't called a guy yet (Santana had made a smartass remark about three guys being able to fix one heater, but fuck if he knew how that shit worked), so he had a big, thick comforter on his bed, and Rachel was all wrapped up in it. Her long dancer's legs were tangled up in his (Fuck if he didn't want to stamp "Property of Noah Puckerman" all over them to keep guys from staring. He was the only one allowed to ogle those fuckin' things), and they were sharing body heat. He loved it.

He loved everything about her, really. He loved her laugh (it was so fuckin' contagious and adorable, it should be illegal), the way her eyes lit up when she was happy, and the way every smile seemed like it was just for him. He loved the way she gave everything of herself one hundred percent of the time, committing to something and sticking with it. She was selfless, but selfish when it came to something she wanted (she'd kill for roles, solos, and him) and had a huge heart, even though she'd been hurt before. Girl could cook like nobody's business (even meat and shit, and she was vegetarian), and had a set of lungs that put everyone else to shame (singing, fighting, screaming his name… the possibilities were endless). He loved that she always wanted to take care of people, and would bully you into being her friend. She was a little intense and insane (okay, _a lot_) and definitely strived for perfection. She talked like she swallowed a dictionary and had a tendency to storm off if she didn't get her way. Fighting with her was like swimming in lava, and if she cried, he just wanted to kill whoever had made it happen, even if it was himself. This tiny diva deserved nothing but the best, nothing but happiness, and it was his job- his _motherfuckin' privilege_- to make that happen.

Puck kissed her hair again and grinned when she murmured his name and tried to snuggle even closer. He wrapped an arm around her waist and settled in, looking up at his ceiling as he began to drift off with the only thing he needed in the world right there with him.

"I'm kinda addicted to you, you know that?" He murmured softly into the darkness. "And I fuckin' love it."


	13. A Very Puckleberry Thanksgiving

**Summary: In which Rachel and Puck decide to stay in on Thanksgiving and not be crazy people.**

**A/N: Happy Thanksgiving, all! Sorry I haven't updated this world in a while, but I've been getting hit with the Inspiration Fairy for everything Puckleberry-related **_**except**_** this. But, I'm back! I hope I was missed, and that you haven't given up on me yet! **

**Rating: M, because Puck's mind is pretty candid, and there's some minor cussing (Although, really, do you expect anything less of our favorite loveable but dangerous miscreant?)**

**DISCLAIMED**

The doorbell rang and Puck reluctantly hauled himself off the couch to answer it. The delivery boy was on the other side, and after forking over the total and a big tip (his girlfriend had way too big of a heart), he kicked the door closed, his hands full of food. Rachel was two steps ahead of him, grabbing plates from the cupboard and meeting him at the small dinner table they had.

"I'm surprised we were able to order out, at all. I would've thought everyone would be closed." She said, opening containers. "You told them to make sure the stuffing was vegetarian, right?" He nodded while piling turkey on his plate, and she scooped out a huge helping. She added some corn and carrots before grabbing a couple rolls and waiting for him to finish loading his plate. She wrinkled her nose at the obscene amount of turkey on his plate. He held some up to her.

"Try it." She shook her head, lips pushed together in a thin line, and he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Rach, baby, you _can't_ have Thanksgiving without turkey. It's not kosher."

"There are so many things wrong with that sentence, Noah Puckerman, and you know I'm vegan."

"Just try some. For me." He turned on the charm, pulling out the boyfriend card, and he saw her cave. She opened her perky little mouth (fuck, could they eat later? He kinda wanted to put something else in her mouth, now) and let him feed her some of the bird. She chewed and swallowed hesitantly, licking her lips afterward in thought. "Well?"

"It isn't… _distasteful_. I still prefer not to eat any, but it isn't really all that bad." She smiled up at him. "Happy? Can we sit down now?" He nodded and they moved back to the couch, cuddling up with their plates and turning on the television to the parade. As they ate and watched the acts, Rachel giggled. "It's a bit silly, I suppose, watching the parade here when it's right outside."

"Silly is fucking standing out there in the freezing cold. This is close enough for me, thanks." Puck replied.

"Look, Noah, its Kurt and Blaine!" Rachel squealed and pointed her fork at the box, which showed her best friend and his boyfriend pushed up against the barrier, waving at the camera and screaming. They both wore huge smiles, and Puck laughed.

"Your friends are batshit, babe."

Rachel sighed happily. "I know, but I love them. Did you know they went down to the street when it was still dark out to get that spot? And immediately following, they're staking out the stores for Black Friday." She shuddered in remembrance of Kurt's insanity. "I'm just glad it's not me this year. Quite honestly, after last year, I considered severing my ties with Kurt."

Puck slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "Babe, we don't have to leave this apartment for the next three days, if you want. They aren't coming home, right?" Rachel shook her head and Puck let out a breath of relief. "Then it's all ours."

Rachel stretched her neck up and kissed his chin. "And what will you do with me, Mr. Puckerman, now that you have me here?" He growled as she pulled away, and palmed the back of her neck, claiming her mouth. He plundered (really, there was no other term appropriate for what he did) her mouth with his tongue for what seemed like forever, and when they pulled apart, his eyes were glowing with lust and she couldn't breathe. He took their plates and set them on the coffee table before pulling her onto her feet and over his shoulder. She squealed as the breath was knocked out of her (apparently, there had been some left in her, after all) and her face met his back. She wiggled, just to be difficult, but he stopped her with a light smack on the ass.

"Noah Puckerman, what do you think you're doing!" He was walking now, and she was jostled up and down with each movement. "Put me down this instant!"

He shrugged in response and hauled her off his shoulder, tossing her forward. She squeaked as her back hit the mattress of her bed, but barely had time to shift before he dove after her and covered her body with his. His face was inches from hers, and he grinned, showing his canines. "Hi."

"Hi." She breathed back, framing his face in her hands and kissing him senseless. "Is this another Thanksgiving tradition I was unaware of?"

"It can be." He smirked and all talk stopped, the only sounds that of clothing being removed and hitting the floor, followed by noises of pleasure.

~~GobbleGobbleGobble~~

Puck shut the door of the fridge with his foot and munched on a carrot as he made his way back to the bedroom. It was getting dark out now, and he'd just put away most of the food they'd ordered. They gone at it for a few hours (he'd gotten his Thanksgiving wish), and then Rachel had looked up at him with these sleepy, sexy eyes and said, "Noah, can I have some more turkey?" and it'd been so fucking hot, he'd practically jumped out of bed to comply. He'd packed up the leftovers, reheated a huge plate of food, and was now crawling into bed, his girlfriend sitting up in bed and smiling. He put the plate between them and she nestled under his arm, nibbling on a piece of white meat with her perfect teeth and managing to look innocently adorable and smoking hot at the same time.

"Noah, what are you thankful for?" She asked suddenly, looking up at him. He shrugged.

"Dunno. I'm thankful that I got a place to stay, and a job. I'm thankful nobody else has gotten hurt lately, and that I haven't had a shit ton of paperwork." She smacked him playfully and he rubbed the spot in mock hurt. He kissed the top of her head, though. "I'm really thankful you're in my life, Rach. That's probably something I'll be thankful for, for a long time."

"I'm thankful for you, too." She replied quietly. "So very thankful."

They pressed as close to each other as possible, content to eat leftover food (that they didn't cook in the first place) in the dark, while wondering if Kurt would do anything pay-per-view-worthy during the craziness tomorrow (Puck bet Rachel $20 and a BJ that he'd try to scratch some chick's face off). Afterward, as they fell asleep, Puck decided it was the best Thanksgiving ever (even better than the one when he was twelve, and he walked in on his hot older cousin topless).

**A/N: I know it ended a little lame, but I kept getting distracted, which completely breaks my focus. Also, I couldn't help throwing in that last bit. I just feel like that would be Puck's idea of a good holiday. Reviews are always appreciated, as well as criticisms welcome, and I will see you all in the next chapter!**


	14. Cold Hands

**Summary: I had this sitting in my folder, just sitting there, waiting to be read and shared. And then, I went back and re-read 'Addiction' and realized this little piece of fluff fit perfectly right before it.**

**A/N: Okay, my life feels complete again, now that I've uploaded another chapter here. I just can't wait until Christmas, because I will have **_**so much**_** Puckleberry goodness, it'll be like Hanukah plus Christmas plus all of your birthdays combined! Winter gets me so inspired! Anyway, enjoy =)**

**Rating: This one is harmless, I swear. I mean, if you look really hard you can probably find some sexiness references, but I mean, c'mon, if Puck's involved, they'll always be sex involved…**

**DISCLAIMED**

There was a soft knock on the door and Puck was on his feet and across the room in an instant, swinging the door open to reveal his adorably tiny girlfriend, long brown hair curled around her face and hands tucked into a warm, bright blue coat. She smiled up at him. "Hi." She breathed.

Puck just grabbed her arm and hauled her inside, shutting the door with one hand while the other slid into her hair while he kissed her. Her own hands curled into his sweatshirt, and he felt her rise up on her toes so that he wouldn't have to bend so much to reach her (he had like, the most thoughtful girlfriend ever). His other hand slipped into her unbuttoned coat (he was pretty sure he might've been responsible for that, but he honestly didn't remember anything beyond the point where Rachel's tongue brushed against his lips) and under her shirt to splay over her flat stomach, and she shivered. They broke apart gasping for air. When he looked down at her, she still had that smile on her face.

"Your hands are cold." She said softly, taking off her coat and laying it on the back of the couch. "In fact, the entire apartment is cold. Noah, why is it cold in here?"

"The heater went to shit and I haven't gotten it fixed yet." He answered absently, focusing on her legs in the tight jeans she wore, paired with a ridiculous pair of tall, high heeled boots. Why were they talking? They hadn't seen each other in like, a week, and he really just wanted to take her to his room and curl up in bed with her (after doing some other stuff in his bed that he knew she had missed as much as he had). Acting on his thoughts, he pulled her in for some more kissing, and put his hands on her ass, lifting her up. Taking the hint, Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist (which was his second favorite place to have them, his first being them tangled with his own while they slept) and her arms around his neck, one hand settling on the nape of his neck. It was his turn to shiver because, _fuck_, her hand was like _ice_. Ignoring it, he backed them into his room somehow, never breaking off their intense make-out session. Kicking the door closed while simultaneously dumping her on the bed (he'd apologize for "manhandling" her later, even though he was pretty sure she didn't actually mind), he pulled his sweatshirt off and bit back a curse as the cold air hit him. Rachel was wiggling out of her own top, and before she barely had it over her head, he was on her.

"Noah, it's so cold." She said, shivering with every kiss he trailed down her neck and chest. He wrapped her up in his big arms and pulled the comforter over them both.

"Don't worry, baby. We'll warm each other up real quick."

**A/N: Okay, so it was a little more smutty than I originally said, but to be fair, I rewrote a few bits of it. Otherwise, it's fluff. Honest. Also, it deserves a special note to my best friend/awkward-almost-we're-not-quite-sure-if-we're-dating boyfriend, who went to kiss me in the cafeteria on campus yesterday, and slid his hands up my back and basically turned me into a block of ice haha. I bought him gloves yesterday and am demanding he wear them! Next up, I think I might do a movie night with Puckleberry *raises eyesbrows suggestively***


	15. Movie Night

**A/N: I think I'm gonna stop giving little blurbs and let everyone be surprised *evil grin* I will warn you if there's smut or anything, though. Also, I'd like to give a warm welcome to ****shiningstar07****, who I've missed on my review board! You all are such great people, and I love getting a new review on any of my stories. Keep posting and telling me what you like/don't like! **

**DISCLAIMED**

"_Absolutely not_, Noah!" Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Puck was momentarily distracted by the movement, his eyes zeroing in on her chest, but knew better than to try anything. It would just piss her off even more.

"Rach, it's a classic. Besides, it's my night to pick. That's the way it works, the way _you_ decided it would work, remember?" Their pizza was already on the way, and if it didn't show up soon and break up some of this tension, Puck might just kill himself. All he'd wanted was a nice quiet movie night with his girl, and everything had been going great. Beer in his fridge, Rachel on his lap and their lips enjoying each other, until she'd murmured that they should put the movie in, since dinner would be there soon. Reluctantly, he'd let her slide off of him and move to the DVD player, absently giving her a yes when she asked if the case on top of the player was his choice for the night. That's when the shit had started.

"I don't care if it's supposedly a classic, Noah, it's _obscene_! While I most certainly do remember creating this arrangement, I also remember giving us both three vetoes on movie choices. Just last week, you said no to _West Side Story_, _Moulin Rouge_ and _Chicago_! The only reason you were okay with watching _Oklahoma_ was because I told you Hugh Jackman was in it, and you still complained the entire time!" She stomped her tiny foot. "Is it too much to ask that we not watch a movie every other week featuring graphic violence and deplorable language? I choose more than musicals."

Puck scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Look, I get it Rach, I really do. I just don't understand why you won't even give _Reservoir Dogs_ a chance. How do you know it'll be that bad?"

"It's a Quintin Tarantino movie!" She replied hotly. "The last movie created by him that we watched had Uma Thurman killing everyone she came across! I expect this one to be no better. Also, Santana thoroughly enjoys it, and I walked in on her watching it once. They cut some poor man's ear off!" She shuddered and shook her head. "Pick another movie, Noah."

"Fine. How about _Inglorious Basterds_? That's historical."

She waved a hand. "Tarantino. Kurt has a thing for Eli Roth. Try again." Puck let out an exasperated noise and was grateful when the doorbell buzzed. Rachel went to take care of the pizza boy while he rummaged through his movie collection. She set the hot box on the coffee table, grabbed two paper plates, and sat down on the couch, looking up at him expectantly.

"Okay, babe, here's what I got." He pulled a small pile of DVDs out from behind his back and started going through them. "_Friday the 13__th_."

"If you want me to cuddle with you, Noah, you don't need to put in a tacky horror movie."

He sputtered. "Tacky? This is a fucking classic. But whatever. Uhm, _American History X_."

"As much as I enjoy Edward Norton, I do _not_ enjoy prison movies."

"_Die Hard_."

"We watched that three weeks ago."

"_Die Hard 2_?"

"Good Lord, there's a sequel?"

"There's like, four."

"No."

Sigh. "Fine. How about _Pulp Fiction_?"

"No Tarantino, Noah!"

"It's gonna happen, babe."

"Not tonight, it won't. Unless you would prefer me to go home and you can enjoy the evening by yourself?" She arched a brow at him and he almost dropped the movie cases.

"Don't even joke about that, Rach. Alright, all I got left is _Evil Dead_." He looked at her hopefully, and saw her mulling the idea over in her mind.

"It doesn't sound very appealing," She began, "But it at least sounds better than the other choices. Not to mention, I'm sure I read somewhere that there was a musical by the same title. Perhaps the musical was inspired by the film?" She looked to him for confirmation, and he nodded quickly, even though he hadn't even known there was a musical ('cuz if he had, legit he'd have gotten tickets. Rachel would've gotten to see a show and he'd get some serious laughs).

"It's funny, babe. I promise."

She relented. "Very well, put it in. But if it's terrible, then I'm not watching it." Puck nodded and popped the movie in the player, excited as a puppy. He threw himself onto the couch next to Rach, sliding an arm around her shoulders while grabbing a slice of pizza and a plate.

**~~~GleeGleeGlee~~~**

"I don't know what I would have done if I had remained on those hot coals, burning my pretty flesh." Shelly sat up, her face burned and smoking.

"Noah, this is disgusting!" Rachel buried her face in his chest, and Puck laughed. Not at his girlfriend, but at the movie (although her reaction _was_ pretty funny). "I can't believe you're enjoying this."

"It's camp, babe. Pure, cheesy camp. You want a real classic, this is it. Sam Raimi's a genius. The other two are even better."

"We are _not_ watching them." She said vehemently, her face still in his chest. As the noises on the screen progressed, her fingers curled into his shirt, and he actually felt a little bad. Rubbing her back, he lowered the volume a bit and nudged her with his shoulder until she looked up at him.

"You wanna go to bed, baby? We don't need to finish watching it." She shook her head. "Seriously, Rach, it's not that big a deal."

"I'm not chickening out now that it's on, Noah. Obviously, this movie is important to you, and I want to take an interest in things that are important to you." She glanced at the screen and blanched. "Perhaps, though, we could finish it later." He smirked and shut off the player and television before scooping her up and heading to bed. It was early, but that was cool by him (more time for sex before they crashed).

Next week, when Rachel called out to him from her kitchen that dinner was almost ready, Puck went over to the DVD player and picked up the case on top of it. It was some Adam Sandler comedy, which he knew for a fact she wasn't that fond of, and he set it back down before grabbing West Side Story off of the movie shelf. He popped it in and headed to the kitchen to grab some grub. Rachel had cooked some lemon chicken dish with pasta, and it smelled _delicious_.

Seated on the couch with Rachel snug against his side, he hit play. Her face lit up as the opening credits rolled, and looked up at him with shiny eyes. "Noah…"

He shrugged. "It's important to you, babe. I gotta be into things that are important to you." He smirked as she stretched up and kissed his chin.

"Thank you, Noah."

He grunted in response and took a huge bite of food. "We're still watching Tarantino at some point."

**A/N: I love how my personal taste in movies ended up fueling this one. I'm a major movie buff, and I am absolutely head over heels for Raimi and Tarantino movies (pre-Spider Man Raimi, that is). Also, that random line of Evil Dead dialogue was just floating through my head at the perfect moment, haha. My best friend/awkward-almost-we're-not-quite-sure-if-we're-dating boyfriend doesn't really like campy movies (although he's down with lots of graphic violence, he doesn't like Tarantino, either. I think he's just stupid. Maybe he hates plots…?), so he helped me sort of get in to Rachel's head for this one. Hope you liked it!**


	16. No Good Deed

**Title: No Good Deed **

**Summary: Rachel has a terrible feeling during practice**

**A/N: That's right, duckies! ***singsong voice*** I'm baaaacccckkkk! Ah, I've missed you all so very much. I'm so sorry for leaving, but I lost internet, and didn't have any for two months! =( It made me sad. Anywho, I'm excited to begin my return with this next chapter of **_These Are the Moments_**. Its angsty, but you can blame that on a combination of things in my personal life mixing with one of my favorite songs from Wicked. Without further ado- drumroll, Finn- **_No Good Deed_**!**

**Rating: M, just for safety.**

**DISCLAIMED**

…

…

"Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Rachel Berry. I can't answer my cell phone now, as I am probably either at practice, or it's been confiscated my obnoxious boyfriend and turned off. Please leave a message, and I'll return your call as soon as I can. Thank you!"

"Hey baby, it's me. I know you're still in practice, so you won't get this for an hour or two. I just wanted to let you know that we got a call and I'm going out with the guys, so I might be home a little later than I thought. I'm sorry, I know I promised, but they need me. Have a good practice and I'll see you tonight. I love you, Rach."

**Eleka nahmen nahmen**

**Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen**

_Was it because of the corset? Could that be what it was? _

**Eleka nahmen nahmen**

**Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen**

'_Damn it was hot. Was it usually this hot?'_

**Let his flesh not be torn**

**Let his blood leave no stain**

_Her heart felt heavy, like the weight of the world was crushing it_

**Though they may beat him**

**Let him feel no pain**

_Floor doesn't look all that reliable. One more level and all clear. Then out of this hell hole and home to Rachel._

**Let his bones never break**

**And however they try**

**To destroy him**

**Let him never die:**

**Let him never die!**

_It hurts so badly. Like my heart is being ripped out. Noah?_

**Eleka nahmen nahmen**

**Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen**

_Shit, did something just creak? _

**Eleka nahmen nahmen**

**Ah tum ah tum eleka: eleka:**

_Oh, God… Something's wrong… _

_One foot in front of the other, just keep going Puckerman-_

**What good is this chanting?**

**I don't even know what I'm reading**

_One foot in front of the other and- SHIT._

**I don't even know what trick I ought to try**

_NOAH!_

… _Sorry, Rach… Looks like I'll be home… a little late tonight…_

Rachel gasped and broke off mid-song, clutching her hand to her chest and trying to remember how to breathe. She knew that everyone was staring, that they were worried and confused. Rachel Berry never missed a line, or stopped singing before the song was done. Never.

As the piano died off and the cast's murmurs grew, Rachel found that her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. She crumbled to her knees, sinking to the stage in her heavy black dress. She felt something wet on her face, and realized she was crying. It was ridiculous; she didn't know why.

"Rachel?" She looked up to see Jason, the director, standing in front of the stage, a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay, honey?"

Rachel nodded slightly, then swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded again, with more force behind it. She tried to smile as she looked up at Jason. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't know what happened…"

"Rachel!" She looked over to see one of the "Munchkins" running toward her. "You have a phone call, from your friend Santana. She says it's important."

Rachel nodded and let Andrew, her Fiyero, help her up off the stage floor. She hurried back to the green room as quickly as she could, picking up the white phone resting on the table. "Santana?"

"Rach…" At Santana's voice, which sounded subdued, Rachel almost burst into tears again.

"Please, don't…" She begged her friend, clutching the phone in her green hands.

"I'm coming to pick you up. I'm literally a block away." Santana hung up, and Rachel raced to her dressing room, hurriedly unlacing the corset and unzipping the dress. She grabbed the jeans and shirt she'd come in, throwing them on and pulling her hair into a ponytail. She pulled on her sneakers and grabbed her purse, flying out the door and back toward the stage. She jumped down and blurted out an apology to Jason, telling him it was an emergency. He simply told her to go, and that he'd see her Monday for rehearsal.

Santana was idling in a cab outside, and Rachel jumped in. The cab peeled away from the curb as Santana barked out the address for a nearby hospital. Then, she hugged Rachel, ignoring the fact that her best friend was completely green. Rachel realized she was crying again.

"He fell." Santana said into her ear. "He was on the second floor, and the floorboards gave out. They said he hit his head. They aren't sure yet, but Quinn said he was stable and the doctors seemed to think he'd be okay."

"He wasn't supposed to go!" Rachel whispered fiercely. "He was just there for some paperwork."

"I know, honey." San rubbed her back, and the broke apart as the cab came to a stop. She paid the driver and the two of them hurried inside. Santana led the way, saying Quinn had told them where to go, and that she and Sam were in the waiting area. "I also called Kurt and Blaine." She said, as they turned another corner. "He told me they were on their way."

One more corner, and Rachel saw Quinn sitting in a chair in a small waiting area, Sam beside her and holding one of her hands while the other rubbed her back comfortingly. She stood when she saw Rachel, rushing to her as best she could and wrapping her in a hug.

"Rachel, you're green!" She said, crying and hugging the brunette. Rachel laughed in spite of the situation, and hugged Quinn back.

"How bad is it?" She asked, not really wanting to know.

"The doctor finally came out, and said that he has a concussion. There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, but they want to keep him for a few days, just in case. He was waking up, the last we heard. We thought you'd want to go in and see him first." Rachel nodded and wiped at her eyes, grateful that at least her makeup was waterproof. She imagined she was a sight, though.

"He's two doors down. The nurse told us we could go in whenever, so I think you'll be okay." Quinn squeezed her hand and Rachel nodded, taking a deep breath.

Puck felt someone take his hand, and struggled to open his eyes. They were so heavy, and his head was killing him. He really just wanted to sleep.

"Noah?"

He knew that voice. It was Rachel. She sounded sad, like she'd been crying. Why had she been crying? Was it his fault? Is that why his head hurt? Did they have one of their stupid fights, and he had gone out and gotten piss-ass drunk? He opened his eyes a crack, but everything was blurry and it hurt his head worse, so he shut them again. She squeezed his hand, and he tried to smile.

"Don't cry, Rach; I'm sorry…" He heard her sniffle. "I promise I'll make it better, baby."

"Oh, Noah…" He opened his eyes and ignored the stabbing pain. He realized he wasn't in his bed, or in his room. This room was white, too white, and it smelled like chemicals…

A hospital. He was in a fucking hospital. And just like that, it came back to him pieces… The call… Going into the building… The floorboards giving… Falling… Blackness…

"Noah?" She came into focus next, her face above his, chocolate eyes anxious and searching. Her long brown ponytail was coming loose, and strands fell in her face. Her _green_ face.

"Rach…" He said, groggily. "Why are you green…?" She smiled, and tears spilled down her cheeks and dripped onto his face. He reached one shaky hand up and cupped a green cheek. Rachel closed her eyes and nuzzled his hand, clutching it in her own two green ones.

"Noah… I was so scared…"

"I'm sorry, Rach."

"Don't apologize, Noah. Please, just be okay." His hand slid away from hers, and she rested her forehead on his chest, still crying. He let his hand slide through her hair, pulling out the rest of her pony. He smiled a little, even though it hurt, and closed his eyes.

"I'm okay, baby." She nodded in relief against his chest, and he felt himself getting tired again. "Stay with me, please? I'm so tired, but I can't sleep without you."

"I'll stay, even though I look ridiculous." Her voice was muffled. Puck smiled and made a noise of protest in his throat. He felt like shaking his head would knock his brain out.

"I adore your looks." It was the last thing he remembered saying before falling back asleep.

**A/N: I'm sorry! I'm so mean to cut it off like that, but I think I might make this one a two-part. Hopefully, any fans of the book **_Wicked: The Life & Times of the Wicked Witch of the_** West (yes, I put the full title in) will have caught that little homage to Fiyero at the end. *sigh* It's my favorite part of the book. Sometimes, I don't read past **_The Emerald City_**. It's just depressing… Also, a little **_Naruto_** slip-in, because I've been re-reading the manga, and just hit a major SPOILER part. Anyone wanting to know what I slipped in, just message me and ask! Also, obviously feedback is loved. Let me know how you like it, and see you in part two!**


	17. Puke Track

**A/N: The lack of attention I've been paying to my favorite AU has disturbed me lately. I think I was just in a rut with it, and couldn't get inspired. But I'm back, because I've missed this world, and because I woke up at 4 AM with a ginormous idea that I had to put into effect, even though we're completely behind and it's totally out of order. Good thing they're just sort-of-connected one shots, huh?**

**(For time reference, the last chapter before **_**No Good Deed **_**takes place in December. This chapter takes place in April. I promise I'll fill in the blanks later)**

The sound of someone vomiting ruined Puck's perfectly good dream (Rachel had been all dressed up like a sexy little firefighter, and had been giving him that look he loved…), and he resented it. For a moment, he forgot where he was and figured it was Santana, sneaking in after another late-night binge party and puking up everything but the kitchen sink. He was about to bitch her out for it (loudly) when he moved his arm over the empty place where Rachel's warm body should be (right next to his), and remembered that they'd moved in together almost three months ago. No more Finn and his awkwardness, no more Kurt and his unnecessary commentary. And no more Santana puke track as background noise at 2 am.

Puck lifted his head and rubbed a hand over his 'hawk, squinting in the darkness at the open bedroom door. The bathroom light wasn't on, but there was that sound again. The distinct retching of someone hunched over a toilet bowl (he was intimately familiar with it from his high school days). He propped himself up on his elbows. "Babe?" He called. "You okay?"

The only answer was more retching, so he stood and shuffled, half-awake, to the bathroom (which was at least situated next to the bedroom. He wasn't sure he could navigate their apartment in the dark and half-blind). He stopped in the doorway, managing to make out the vague shape of his girlfriend, seated on the cold tile floor in front of the toilet. She looked up at him, and he cocked his head. Rachel looked completely miserable, like she'd been hit by a bus. He felt bad, knowing all too well the feeling, and sat down next to her, rubbing her back. She'd seemed to stop puking, and leaned her head on his shoulder. He didn't even care about her bad breath. "What's the matter, baby?"

She swallowed, then leaned forward and spit into the bowl (a totally un-Rachel move), grimacing at the taste in her mouth. "I think I'm sick, Noah."

He took a deep breath and tried not to look freaked. That was a weighty statement when spoken by Rachel Berry. His woman worked her adorable ass off to stay as healthy as possible, and never got sick. In the whole time he'd dated her (like, almost a year), Rachel had only been sick once, and that was actually allergies. It had lasted a day, and then she'd been her usual self. Kurt told him that she'd never even gotten sick in high school, and that when flu season rolled around, she got her shot and steered clear of anyone sneezing or coughing.

"You sure, Rach?" He rubbed her back again, moving her hair aside so he didn't trap it. "Maybe you just ate something that didn't agree with you?"

She shook her head. "I feel terrible, Noah. I'm so hot, and I'm fairly certain I just puked up everything in my stomach. I feel dizzy." Puck put a hand against her forehead and realized she was right- she was hot. Really hot. He shifted to his haunches.

"Put your arms around my neck, babe. We'll put you back in bed and see how you feel later in the morning. I'll call the doctor once they're open." She did as he instructed and he straightened, carrying her back to the bedroom and settling her on the mattress. He left the blankets off since she'd complained about being hot, and then went back into the bathroom for some Tylenol and a glass of water. He flushed the toilet and brought her the stuff. She dutifully swallowed the little white-and-red pill, and managed to drink half the glass of water before shaking her head and handing it back to him. He put it on the dresser and climbed back into bed with her, pulling her close and rubbing her back soothingly.

Puck woke up again around seven to the sound of Rachel puking some more. He dragged himself out of bed and grabbed his phone, dialing the doctor's office and making an appointment (well, he didn't so much make an appointment as tell them he was bringing her in). He pulled on pants and a random shirt, and grabbed his shoes. As he pulled them on, he poked his head in the bathroom to see his tiny girlfriend seated on the edge of the tub in front of the toilet, dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt. "C'mon, babe, I called the doctor."

Rachel pulled herself up and they left, grabbing a cab and getting to the doctor's office without any hurling (thankfully). There wasn't any wait, and in record time Rachel was seated on the edge of the exam table, Puck standing beside her.

Doctor Hurwitz came in a few minutes later with her chart in his hand and smiled at them. "Rachel, good morning. It's unusual to have you up on the table. Normally, we're fixing up Puck over here." He chuckled good naturedly and took her vitals, asking them how they were and catching up.

After asking about her symptoms and looking her over some more (he checked her throat, ears, chest, the works), he shook his head. "I can't really find anything wrong, Rachel. From what you described, it sounds like food poisoning or morning sickness. Or both." He joked. He flipped through her chart. "You are due for a check-up with Dr. Rosen. If she gives you the all clear, then it's most likely food poisoning. I recommend taking it easy and some ginger ale, saltines and Jell-O. You'll be good as new in no time." He closed her file and smiled at her. "I'll call over and see if Dr. Rosen's in yet, and if she can fit you in, okay?" Rachel nodded, and Dr. Hurwitz left to call. She looked over at Puck and tried to smile.

"It's probably just food poisoning, babe. You probably had bad tofu or something." He managed to get a giggle out of her, and smiled. Dr. Rosen was gonna give them the all clear, and they'd stop at the store to grab some Jell-O and ginger ale. It was just food poisoning.

He hoped.

"Well, Rachel, Dr. Hurwitz tells me you aren't feeling well." Dr. Rosen smiled at Rachel over her glasses. "He also said it might be morning sickness."

"Or food poisoning." Puck said quickly. "He said it could just be food poisoning." He rubbed Rachel's back comfortingly as she nodded quickly.

Dr. Rosen chuckled a little and set Rachel's chart down. "I'm sure it is. But since you're here, and you're due for a check-up, let's get on with it."

Puck didn't pretend to understand what the hell gynecologists did. He just cringed and considered himself lucky that his internal plumbing was totally streamlined and simple. Dr. Rosen chatted with Rachel, trying to keep her relaxed (he guessed) while she worked. Puck wasn't too sure, because he suddenly found the wall and ceiling very, very fascinating.

When Dr. Rosen was done, Rachel sat up and Puck turned back to face them. The doctor was stripping off her gloves and smiling. She squirted some hand sanitizer into her palms and spun to face them on the stool, rubbing her hands together. She was still smiling.

"Everything looks fine, Rachel. Nothing new or interesting, if you get my meaning. I'm guessing what you had was just a case of something disagreeing with your stomach."

"You're sure, doc?" Puck asked, trying not to sound anxious. Dr. Rosen nodded and scribbled something on Rachel's chart.

"The ultrasound didn't pick anything up, either. Way to turn around for that, by the way." She teased. Puck held his hands up in surrender. How was he supposed to know?

"Just to be absolutely sure, because your boyfriend here still has that deer-in-the-headlights look, I'll schedule an appointment for in a couple of weeks, and we'll take another look, okay?" They both nodded and she made another note on the chart before telling them goodbye.

Later that night, when she was curled up next to him in bed (all puking ended and a bowl previously containing strawberry Jell-O in the kitchen sink), he thought about their day. "So, that was fun, huh?" He said softly, nuzzling her hair. She giggled and rubbed her cheek against his chest.

"That's one word for it." She replied. "Let's not tell Kurt and Santana we almost had a pregnancy scare. Santana would kill you, and Kurt wouldn't rest until he was the godfather." They both chuckled, and he nuzzled her hair again.

"Love you, Rach." He said. It was so much easier to say it out loud than it had been the first time, and it kept getting easier.

"Love you too, Noah." She replied. "Go to sleep. I promise not to throw up anymore."

"Good."

**A/N: Raise your hand if you thought I was going to knock her up! Haha you and my beta are in good company. Sorry, guys, not this time, but maybe in the near future…? **


	18. Wicked Stepmother

Summary: Puck comes home to find Rachel has a visitor- and isn't sure what to make of it.

Rating: M

DISCLAIMED

Puck opened the door and dropped his keys on the hall table before walking fully into his apartment. His and Rachel's apartment. He couldn't get over the fact that they had their own place. No more having to coordinate with roommates, and no more awkward sleepovers. They had their own space, and it was fantastic.

They'd ended up moving into an apartment a few floors up from the one she shared with Santana and Kurt, partly because she couldn't bear to be far away from them, but mostly because it had opened up, they were desperate, and the rent was cheap (turns out she had chosen to share an apartment with two other people, and hadn't done it out of necessity). Rachel loved it because she could still do Monday morning breakfast with them, and Puck was cool with it because it made her happy, and when Rachel was happy, he was happy (because he got laid, not because he was some pansy ass with feelings and shit).

The whole place smelled like food, which meant Rachel had made dinner, and now Puck wondered if he was late for something. They hadn't made any plans, but dinner for them was usually take-out, so a cooked meal meant company. Fuck, were Blaine and Kurt coming over tonight? Had he forgotten? He ventured cautiously into the living room, preparing to see an irritated Rachel and her friends, but all he saw was Rachel sitting stiffly on the arm of the sofa and an older version of Rachel sitting opposite her on the loveseat. Rachel looked over her shoulder at him and smiled woodenly, her eyes telling him she was glad to see him. He came over and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"Noah, I'm glad you're home. How was work?" She gave his cheek a kiss and let him wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"It was fine, babe. There was a fire a couple blocks over, but it wasn't bad. Just some kids messin' around with shit they shouldn't. We were good." He smiled at her. "Smell's good in here. What's cookin'?"

"I'm making rosemary chicken. Kurt gave me the recipe and I've been eager to try it. Now seemed as good a time as any." She glanced over at the guest before looking at her boyfriend. "Noah, this is Shelby Corcoran."

Puck stilled and glanced over at the woman again, running a hand over his mohawk. He recognized the name. Rachel had told him about her two dads, and how she hadn't known who her birth mother was until high school, when she'd met the woman- Shelby Corcoran. Rachel had told him that Shelby was the coach of a rival show choir, and that she had tried to woo Rachel into joining the competition. The jist he'd gotten out of it was that the whole thing hadn't lived up to what Rachel had hoped, and that Shelby was a taboo subject around her.

Puck squeezed Rachel's shoulder and looked down at her. She was smiling, and looking at Shelby, but she was fiddling her hands, and that was never a good sign. He stood and went to the kitchen. "I'm grabbing a beer, baby, you want anything?"

"Wine, please, Noah."

"Anything for you, Ms. Corcoran?" He called as he opened the fridge.

"A glass of water, please." He pulled out a bottle of beer and popped the top on the handle of the door, even though he knew it drove Rachel nuts. He pulled down one of her wine glasses, and a regular glass from the cupboard, and snagged Rachel's favorite bottle of red. As he uncorked it, he dialed the number he needed.

"Yes?" A voice floated out of the earpiece as he poured Rachel's wine.

"You need to get over here, pronto, and bring reinforcements. It's DEFCON 1." He hung up and dropped the phone on the counter. He poured Shelby's water and headed for the kitchen, balancing the three beverages in his hands.

"Here you go, Ms. Corcoran." He said, handing her the glass. She took it with a smile.

"Thank you, Noah. Please, call me Shelby." She took a sip, smiling over the rim. Puck handed Rachel her wine and perched himself on the arm of her chair, swigging at his beer. Shelby set her glass on a coaster on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. Rachel took a big gulp of wine before smiling tightly at her mother.

"So, are you in town for something, Shelby?" Puck asked, mentally counting down the awkward minutes until his backup arrived.

"Nationals are in New York this year, aren't they?" Rachel said softly. "I imagine Vocal Adreneline has placed."

Shelby nodded, her smile a lot like Rachel's. "They take place in two days. When I got here, I met Jesse for coffee, and he told me about running into you. I thought I'd come see how you are." Her smile widened. "You achieved your goal, obviously. I saw your name on the sign outside the Gershwin Theatre. I almost cried."

"Thank you." Rachel replied politely. "I wonder… Did the New Directions… That is…"

"They did." Shelby said, still smiling. "That's part of why I'm here." She pulled something out of her small bag and held them out to Rachel. "I thought you'd like these."

Puck took them and looked at them. They were tickets to the National Show Choir Competition. Two of them. He passed them along to Rachel, who took them with a watery smile.

"Thank you." She said softly. "I had meant to buy tickets, but I was always so busy. I lost track of time." She looked ready to say more, but the doorbell buzzed. She looked up at Puck, startled. "Who could that be?"

He shrugged, already up and moving to the door. "I don't know, babe. I got it." He pushed the button and unlocked the door before returning to his post. He shrugged at her look. "What? It's probably Finn or somebody. Who else would show up this late?"

"Still, it's a little rude to-" She broke off when the door was pushed open and Kurt, Blaine, and Santana walked in. Blaine shut the door behind him while Santana broke past Kurt and strutted in.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, I am offended." She walked right up to the tiny brunette, red heels clicking. "I haven't heard from you in at least a week. There was a time- not too long ago, if I recall- when I heard from you every day. Now, not even a text asking if I want to grab coffee." She scoffed. "Have you replaced me? Is that what this is?" She finally glanced at Shelby, and narrowed her eyes. "Oh."

That one-syllable word hung in the air, making the room feel heavy. Kurt was staring at Shelby hard, and Blaine had a hand on his arm. To her credit, Shelby simply smiled gracefully at Kurt. "Kurt Hummel, it's good to see you again. You look as stylish as ever. And Santana," She turned those Rachel-colored eyes to the Latina. "You're as spirited as the last time I saw. Your hair's a little shorter." She stood, clearing her throat as she smoothed her skirt. "I should go. Obviously, you have company, and I don't want to intrude." She walked over to Rachel, who had stood as well, and touched her cheek. "It was good to see you again, honey." She nodded at Puck before walking out. Puck followed her and shut the door behind her, flipping the lock. Then he turned to face his girlfriend.

Rachel was still standing, looking both confused and relieved. Kurt and Blaine had made themselves right at home on the sofa, and Santana was stealing one of his beers while she ranted.

"-Shoulda called me, Rach, that's all I'm saying. I'm supposed to be your best friend, and best friends are supposed to be present for shit like crazy-ass birth mothers showing up out of the blue." She kicked the door of the fridge shut with her heel and walked back into the living, screwing off the beer cap with her hand (it freaked Puck the hell out that she could do that without even blinking). She sat down on the couch next to Blaine and looked up at Rachel. "So, what'd the bitch want?"

Rachel shook her head slightly and looked at her friend. "She just stopped by to see how I was doing, and to give me tickets to Nationals." She gestured to the tickets on the coffee table. Kurt immediately swept them up and began gushing, helping everyone forget the awkward situation and Santana's attitude.

"Blaine and I just got ours in the mail! We ordered them a week ago! I meant to remind you about it, but it must have slipped my mind!" As Kurt raved excitedly about attending the competition, Puck sat himself down in his chair and pulled Rachel into his lap. He rubbed her back reassuringly.

"Did you call them?" She asked quietly in his ear as her friends talked.

"I thought you'd want some backup. I didn't expect them to scare her off like that." He answered with a shrug.

Rachel smiled softly at him and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely, leaning close and kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Noah."

He grinned lazily at her. "Any time, babe. Any time."

"Hey, Rach, something smells fantastic. We eating or what?" Kurt had already set the table, and Blaine was pulling the chicken out of the oven. Rachel and Puck shared an eye roll at her friends' mooching, but got up good naturedly to join them.

They ate and laughed, and Rachel's spirits were instantly lifted. She forgot all about her mother's visit, and just enjoyed spending time with her friends. Blaine and Kurt helped do the dishes while Puck put away the leftovers and Santana rooted through Rachel's closet to "borrow" a few things.

The dishes clean, the leftovers in the fridge and a few key items missing from her closet, Rachel shooed her friends out the door. Puck turned off all the lights, and they climbed into bed. Curled against Puck's side, ear pressed against his chest so she could fall asleep to his heartbeat, and his arms wrapped around her, Rachel fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Completely forgotten on the coffee table, hastily tucked underneath a few magazines and other assorted mail, was a recent photograph that Shelby had brought with her to share with Rachel. In it, a smiling Shelby had a small, blonde girl- about a year old- in her arms. The tiny girl had a huge grin on her face, and was wearing a pretty pink jumper.

Written on the back, in Shelby's precise handwriting:

_Shelby and Beth, one year old_

_Lima, Ohio_

**A/N: … Why the Hell did I stick Beth in there? I was planning on a VERY different intro for her. Hmn… Oh well. She fits =)**


End file.
